Republic Commando: Knight of Honor
by Ms.MaraJade
Summary: A fairy tale-esque story inspired by the Karen Traviss Republic Commando Novels. Clones are taught loyalty, honor, obedience, and sacrifice - not kindness, compassion, humanity, or...love. The tale of a chivalrous clone and a sheltered princess.
1. Prologue

_Author's Notes_: When I happened along the Republic Commando series by Karen Traviss, I was both astonished and inspired by her work. Over the course of the last couple years, I started to combine my interest in fairy tales with the complexities of the Star Wars universe. I have decided that the time has come for me to venture out of my comfort zone within the Voltron Fandom and delve into something new where I can develop my ever-improving writing skills.

_Knight of Honor_ has been inspired by the lyrics to Nickelback's "Gotta Be Somebody," the song I consider the unofficial anthem for the Republic Commando novels.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed some of them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

_Summary_: A fairy tale-esque story inspired by the Karen Traviss Republic Commando Novels. Clones are taught loyalty, honor, obedience, and sacrifice -- not kindness, compassion, humanity, or...love.

**Republic Commando: Knight of Honor**

**Prologue**

_I learned much about these men, born from genetics, not birth mothers. They share emotions and bonds. They are protective of their brethren. They can even be quite charming at times. Each of them is different in their own way, and they are unique individuals who should be admired for their bravery and cherished for what is within their hearts.  
_Private communication from Jedi Barriss Offee to Master Luminara Unduli, describing her experiences with the Clone Troopers during her time in the Republic Mobile Surgical Unit 7 (Rimsoo 7) on the planet Drongar

**Felucia, 1089 Days ABG**

"_Execute Order 66."_

I turn to my brother, Gath, just to be certain we were issued the appropriate order. He's our voice of reason and is always the one who protects us. We consider him our unofficial leader. Even he seems taken aback momentarily. None of us had anything against the Jedi, and the few times we worked with them didn't show them to be in a coup against the Republic.

I know that I shouldn't have hesitated to fire on the Jedi General, but all my life I struggled with thoughts that were considered overly active, even for a commando. I know that as commandos we were bred to have more freedom in our thoughts, but we were also bred to have unquestionable loyalty to the orders of the Republic Chancellor. I begin to silently question Order 66, knowing I should not be allowing my thoughts so much freedom, especially not at this moment. I've seen the Jedi fight and bleed right beside us. They followed their orders just as loyally as we did. Could they really have used their mysticism to blind us to their secret plans of overthrowing the chancellor?

Reining in my thoughts, I steady my DC-17 blaster rifle, what we always referred to as a Deece, and begin to take aim, but I'm suddenly not certain at who or what I should be firing. There are plenty of Separatist droids that seem much more threatening. Before I make my decision and pull the trigger, blaster bolts erupt around us, firing on the Jedi General who was in the midst of issuing an order.

Dusty throws me aside, shoving me into the shadow of an overgrown flowering plant. At that moment, I'm not sure if he was knocking me down because I hesitated or because he was getting me clear of the stray blaster bolts. In the close proximity of my brother, I notice that his armor shows the evidence of the battle we had just undertaken. The dirt, carbon scoring, and scratches on his breastplate are from the final moment when we still knew who our enemies were while we were taking out the communications tower.

We both turn at the sound of a heavy thump. It's the lifeless body of the Jedi General falling from the giant mushroom onto the ground.

The clones around us continue on their orders, seeking the next Jedi. It's a kind of controlled confusion, and it's the opportunity we had been waiting to happen.

We had been told that if we wanted to bang out of the GAR, there would be only one way out. It was just a matter of accessing the transportation and meeting up at the RV point we were supplied. None of us had the opportunity to be close to the other commando squads for any length of time, but we knew they were our brothers regardless. Their message was in perfectly clear _Mando'a_, and we knew they would not lead us astray. It was these new clones that gave us concern. They knew nothing of our language or our true origins as Mandalorians.

Getting my feet back under me, I'm suddenly confronted by one of the new clone troopers. He's got his DC-15 aimed at my chest.

"You hesitated on an order," he tells me, his voice full of accusation.

_Shab_! I think silently, _was it that obvious_?

Suddenly, I see his body crumple upon itself and fall to the ground. Gath is holding his smoking blaster, still aimed at the unmoving trooper. Unlike them, we protect our brothers.

"Traitors!" one of the other clones begins yelling as he's calling forth the rest of the troopers in his squad.

"_Fierfek_!" Gath grumbles.

Survival instinct suddenly takes over. Dusty, Gath, and I disappear into the shadows, Deeces at the ready. We don't even bother to turn around, certain it's the other clones firing at us. The carbon scoring marks on the ground near our feet and on the giant botany by our heads are proof enough.

"Where's Mouse?" I suddenly ask, realizing I lost track of one of our brothers in the eruption of Order 66.

Gath's short sentence is all the explanation we need. "The Padawan panicked."

Ducking behind a fallen stalk that's full of dying vegetation, I take shots needing to release my anger at the _shabla_ mess of everything. I lost count after the first six clones dropped. Then, it starts to become nothing but a sea of white armor and red blaster bolts.

Again, I'm being pulled into the thick vegetation of the Felucian landscape. This time, it's not by Dusty. He's too busy covering our position.

Gath takes a hold of me and slams my helmeted head against a particularly hard stalk. "_Ner vod_, Mouse is gone, and we're going to get to that RV point. Now, get it back under control."

_Fierfek_! _What the hell was I thinking_?

"We need to move, now!" Dusty shouts, while Gath launches a thermal detonator into the forest trying to slow down another wave of clones.

Once more we're running through the vegetation, using whatever shadows and botany there are for cover.

Firing back into the plants, I hear another clone drop. Dusty decides to provide even more space between them and us. He launches another thermal detonator, and we're running as the explosion tears out huge chunks of ground and plants. In a matter of moments, this has become our own personal civil war. I might have felt remorse for the clones we're killing if they were raised with us on Kamino or had been given a link to their heritage, but they don't acknowledge us as brothers anymore than they do themselves.

"Thirty-feet out!" Dusty calls, and there's the unmistakable wave of relief in his voice.

I look before us now, and I see the small transport he's chosen. It's a basic craft, a four-man ship with a small cargo hold for carrying a couple days' worth of supplies. It's not much for getting us far, but it will get us to the secret RV point where we'll catch another transport. Then, we'll be free.

Finally having arrived, Dusty enters our override codes and the hatch opens with a welcoming hiss. Suddenly, he drops as a shot gets him in the back of the knee. I pull him to safety, keeping him covered from the incoming blasts.

Raising my Deece, I try to fire around the native Felucians who are confused as to who are their enemies now. While fleeing from our own army, we had nearly forgotten about them.

Without warning, the Felucians are starting to drop. The clones chasing after us had caught up to the airfield, and they are blindly blasting the Felucians. The clone army is still trying to get to us, and they don't care who is in the crossfire.

"Get him inside. I'll cover you," Gath orders.

I grab Dusty and start to drag him up the ramp. He's got his Deece in his hands, and he's firing at the clones and the Felucians. He could care less who he's hitting now. He just wants a few more kills. It's his turn to avenge Mouse, and he's doing what he can to help Gath.

We barely get halfway up the ramp when I suddenly hear Gath's armor pelted by blaster fire. Another thermal detonator explodes out in the field, and I know he only has a few left. I shove Dusty further up the ramp and start my way back down. I have to get Gath. There's no question about that.

His voice suddenly starts yelling at me over the helmet speaker, knowing what I was planning as I was in the midst of figuring it out myself. "Your girl is waiting for you, _ner vod_. This is your _only_ opportunity to bang out! Don't regret it. Now, get the hell out of here!"

He wants me to leave him behind, but I can't. He's our brother. He's always taken care of us. Memories start flashing of us from our childhood all the way through to this moment, and I'm still moving to grab him.

"Close that ramp," Gath says, his voice starting to get angry with me for refusing his orders. He pauses long enough from his personal battle against the clones and the Felucians to look up at me one last time. The blue visor of his helmet stares at me, and I'm suddenly angry that I'm being denied the honor of seeing my brother's face. I won't accept his sacrifice, and I realize that I can reach his shoulder if he just stands up. My hand stretches down the ramp, and my fingers scrabble on his shoulder armor.

"Jas," he says quietly, softly, adopting a different tactic. He has accepted that this is his last stand, even though I haven't. "Go."

I don't know why, but that one single, quiet order means everything to me. I turn from my brother and slam the hatch shut. Dusty's limping toward the cockpit and looks back at me as I pass by him.

"Where's Gath?" he asks, trying to hurry in his shuffling to catch up to me.

Ignoring the question for the moment, I settle into the pilot's chair and hurry through the take-off checklist. We both hear the engines turning over, and the repulsors kick in, gently lifting us off the surface of Felucia.

Dusty doesn't ask me again about Gath. He's smart like that, and he's figured it out already. Gath is going to keep them all distracted long enough for us to get up into the atmosphere.

Lifting off, we're both keeping our helmets onto Gath's frequency, hoping he'll somehow miraculously survive. I program the coordinates into the navicomputer, and I'm moving on my own personal autopilot for the moment. It's the only way we're going to get free from Felucia and the clones who seem to have turned on everyone.

Gath's breathing and the firefight we left him in are the only sounds we hear for an eternity of seconds. Then, like a switch was flicked off, nothing but empty static fills our helmets. In frustrated anger, I rip off my bucket and throw it down the hallway far away from the cabin's cockpit controls. I actually take a second to notice that the _kriffin'_ piece of equipment didn't even scratch or dent.

Dusty is sitting in the copilot seat, and his helmet is in his lap. His head is down, and I can see he doesn't know what to think. He just wants his moment to grieve as much as I do, but I'm too restless to grieve.

Neither of us can concentrate on the atmosphere coming up at us, and I just let the navicomputer handle its programming by itself. We're on our way to the RV point, and we lost Mouse. Gath sacrificed himself so we could be where we are now.

"_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_, Gath and Mouse," Dusty quietly whispers, taking the vow to remember them every day of his life. We both know what it means: I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. And, now that Dusty said it, he has to repeat it every day until he dies. It's what Mandalorians do, and it's who we are. Unlike everyone else, though, we got the short end of the deal with our lives.

Choking back the anger and agony, I decide there's nothing more I can do. I take the same vow, needing to remember them forever. Gath and Mouse deserved nothing less. They were our brothers.

"_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_, Gath and Mouse."


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 1**

_The clones of Jango Fett are perfect soldiers. They will remain obedient to their orders, and their loyalty is unmatched. Their emotions, however, could only be suppressed so much. It would not be considered a failure if they bonded with the female gender. After all, humans have a remarkable instinct to breed, and we were just unable to eliminate all primal needs from the clones.  
_Private notes from Kaminoan Geneticist Ko Sai, regarding certain clones' reactions to women

**Skirata Homestead, Planet Mandalore Two Months after Order 66**

Jas looked at the distant grave markers of brothers he would never know, momentarily thinking about the diverse group who called themselves a Mandalorian Clan. They asked no questions when he and Dusty had arrived. The clan simply offered them sanctuary until they were ready to be on their own again. They just wanted Dusty and Jas to know that they were welcome amongst them and that they were fellow brothers to the ones who were once clones in the Grand Army of the Republic. Although Jas' previous interaction with his distant brothers was sparse, he would know them anywhere. It was their mannerisms and the way they held themselves. They were all soldiers trained on Kamino and all of them came from the same mold, but it was their ideals and their morals that made them different. It was those traits that they learned from their Mandalorian training sergeants.

Kal Skirata, known to the clan as _Kal'buir_, was the training sergeant to the former Omega Squad. He was also known for adopting the Null ARCs as his sons, and they were often described as being the man's personal army. If not for Kal, the Kaminoans would have executed the Nulls because in the aihwa-bait's eyes, the Nulls were a failure.

_Kal'buir_ had also set into motion the plan to get the clones out of the army and provide them with a sanctuary of their cultural _Mando_ roots. The old sergeant was still determined to get their accelerated aging to cease so that they could live out the remainder of their lives as normal humans.

Strangely enough, Dusty easily took to their new roles as regular, average citizens. He only needed a few days to get himself set up on a nearby farm that one of the other clone soldiers had established. From what Jas could recall, a former clone commander named Levet owned the farm. In passing conversations Jas learned that Dusty was trying to earn the attention of a woman from a neighboring clan. Jas understood that Dusty had decided he didn't want to spend his abbreviated existence alone and have no one beside him. In their short time on Mandalore, Dusty grew fond of the camaraderie amongst the clans and how the bond of family was so strong. He felt the time had come to stop living in the past and think of his future, no matter how short it would be.

Jas then thought about the diversity of the Skirata Clan and how they were a family despite not all being of the same blood. It was easy to see how and why Dusty wanted to find his place amongst the Mandalorians and have a family of his own. It was the _Mando_ way to develop family bonds and share their knowledge with those in the clan.

Jas lifted his eyes to the sky above now, no longer thinking about Dusty and his newfound contentment. He only wished he were that lucky and satisfied. He knew that before Order 66, the idea of such a life was not so far out of reach.

Sighing softly, Jas brought his thoughts back to the present, leaving the imaginary future he thought he would have had the chance to experience. Had things not gone to _haran_ on Felucia, he was certain that the decisions he had made in his past would have brought him the satisfaction and contentment he so longed to know. As reality returned him to the cool night air, Jas remembered that he had walked out of the house to find a few moments of quiet in the early spring night. Kad had begun crying during the most undesirable hours, waking more than a few of the Skirata household. Laseemsa, the Twi'lek wife of the former commando Atin, said the child probably had experienced a nightmare or a bout of indigestion and she would tend to him.

From what Jas could piece together, Kad was the offspring from one of the commandos who didn't make it back from the war, and the clan adopted him without question. Jas also observed that the clan was quite protective of the child, being very careful about anyone who was not from within the Skirata family interacting with him.

Shifting his mental wanderings from Kad, Jas felt the images and the emotions wash over him again from the horrible nightmare that he had experienced just before Kad's sobbing had awoken him. Jas and his brothers were once again trying to flee Felucia in the disturbing dream. In the residual after-effects of the nightmare, Jas was reminded that Gath and Mouse didn't make it off Felucia. However, his dream had taken a different spin, this time including the woman he cared about. Jas remembered in the nightmare how he desperately tried to reach down the ramp to grasp her small hand, but Dusty held him back, refusing to lose him too. The dream was so real that Jas could feel the warmth of her fingers though his gloves as his hands barely grazed her skin. Then, he felt more than heard her screams as her terrorized sobs tore through his chest, and the pain that consumed him left no physical wound. He watched helplessly as the army of clones, men who were not their brothers, drowned her as though she were in an endless sea of white and black armor.

Unable to fall back to sleep from those images, Jas had taken his personal communicator with him out into the quiet field. He sat on a wooden bench and tried once more to raise some kind of communication on the device. Again, dead static answered him. The last transmission that came through was encrypted with a couple lines of text. Then it abruptly ended with the word, "_Aru'ela_." It meant "hostile," and his heart had frozen at the sight of the _Mando'a_ word. During the war, they communicated as regularly as possible, and he tried to teach her new Mandalorian words in every transmission. He made sure to teach her the most important ones first, as they would eventually become their code for when they wished to send messages of a more personal and confidential nature.

Instinctively, Jas moved his hand to his chest, touching where his heart was located. Under the simple clothes he now wore, he kept a small cloth with a thin lock of her braided hair in a pouch. Shortly after she had given him the braid, he had sewn a pocket into his bodysuit, as he always made sure there was a place in whatever shirt he wore to store the hair. He would never put it anywhere but near his heart. She deserved to be placed nowhere else but where she mattered most to him.

Besides his memories, the braid was all he had left of her. He had promised her that if he survived to the end of the war, he would find his way back and they would be together. Then, Order 66 happened, and it turned their hopes and dreams to slag.

Two weeks ago he received her last message, and he knew that he had to keep himself safe and hidden for a while before he could even think of returning to her. If the newly formed Empire caught him roaming free throughout the galaxy, he would be assassinated for being a deserter and a traitor. His only hope was to seek out the sanctuary on Mandalore and disappear for a couple weeks, allowing the Empire to believe he and Dusty had died while fleeing Felucia and that the wreckage of their transport floating in the Outer Rim would be proof enough.

Shortly after Jas had gotten free of the military, he discovered that Order 66 was a coup, but it was not of the Jedi overtaking the Republic. It was a coup of the Chancellor eliminating all his enemies. It was a cleverly concealed scam, and now that Palpatine had declared himself Emperor, there was no safety within the Imperial Government for Jedi or deserter clones.

In the past few weeks, Palpatine had nullified the Republic and turned it into his own personal dictatorship. The last Jas had heard was that the clone armies were being indoctrinated under a new kind of brainwashing and then sent forth to help round up and eliminate the beings who were most heavily involved in the Confederacy of Independent Systems. The Imperial Army had become nothing more than executioners of entire races.

Jas had no guilt about leaving the military now, and he was glad to be free of the servitude. He knew that he would not want to undergo eliminating his memories and his emotions, and if there would have been any part of him left after the indoctrination, that small part of his humanity would never obediently follow the orders he would be given. Clone or not, some things were just too inhuman for even a created warrior to understand, especially since Jas had been touched by the kindness of another being.

"Can't sleep?" Ordo asked as he came from around the perimeter of the clan grounds. He stretched his arms above his head and suppressed a yawn as though he, too, had been awoken by the commotion from inside.

Jas looked up from his comlink, recognizing the former Null ARC as one of Kal's adopted sons, one of the six who were dubbed as "Skirata's Personal Army." Jas decided not to dwell on a past that wasn't his to know. If Skirata's Clan wanted to delve into their histories, he would gladly learn about them. Until then, he would put his efforts into finding a way to find out what happened to her and make every effort to return to her.

"The young one was raising _haran_," Jas explained as his fingers blindly tried to work the keypad on the comlink. He didn't know if Ordo would think he was insane if he told him about the nightmare, so he kept that to himself. "Then, my thoughts didn't know how to go back to sleep."

Ordo stood before Jas, pointing to the comlink. He had seen the commando carrying the device around, often checking it for messages. "Do you ever part with that?"

Jas looked to the comlink in his hands and shook his head. He kept it with him always. When he wore commando armor, he had it hidden under his thigh plate. When he was without the armor, it stayed attached to his belt. Now, he held it like a lifeline to a time and a place so far away, it might just have been a dream.

"Her name is Arlesse," Jas answered, needing to finally talk about her again. Just saying her name made his heart jump and then just as quickly sink. _I miss you so much._ "Her last communication came about two weeks ago. We had our own personal _dadita_, and even though it was nothing more than a select handful of _Mando'a_ words and phrases, the meanings behind them were very clear to me."

Jas was just as fluent in _Mando'a_ as were the clones from the Skirata Clan. He knew that Ordo would understand if he weaved between the Standard language and _Mando'a_. Jas' training sergeant, Gan Pohin, was no less of a Mandalorian than the other sergeants. Gan made sure his squad knew the language well. He insisted that it would allow them to communicate cryptically in their own personal code, should they need to speak around others who did not need to know their business.

Ordo stretched his neck, allowing the kinks to pop free as he thought about the hours he and Mereel had spent trying to break the new Imperial communications system. "Palps changed all the communications on us, and we can't contact any of our own now. Mereel and I have been trying to figure it out for weeks, but we're growing increasingly frustrated."

"I believe she is alive," Jas said firmly, not wanting to think about how he may not be able to get another communication from Arlesse. "She's in danger, and I can't allow anything to happen to her."

"It's also dangerous out there for deserters," Ordo gently shot back.

"And, I promised her I would return," Jas breathed, caught between anger and regret.

Watching Jas' reaction to his comment, Ordo considered for a moment how he would feel if Besany, his wife, was lost somewhere in the galaxy. He had at one time watched over her, secretly hiding in the shadows to keep her safe. He even went so far as to kill a man in cold blood in front of Besany to protect her. He wondered now if he would have risked his chance at his comfortable existence to find her, if she wasn't already part of the clan. Closing his eyes, Ordo saw her face and felt the comfort of her embrace. The light in her eyes when they were together always melted him in some way he never understood. She was one of the few people he would ever allow to see his vulnerabilities, and he was endeared to her by the compassion that was in her eyes. _Shab_, Ordo cursed silently. He knew without question he would walk into the fires of the Seven Hells if he had to for her. Looking again at Jas, Ordo could see so clearly in his newfound brother's eyes that Jas would jump off the edge of the galaxy to get his girl back.

"Ever hear of Tochin?" Jas asked softly, almost apologetically.

Ordo had the strange feeling that he was about to be recruited into something, and he was ready to welcome the challenge if it came to that. "It's in the Celeste System and harbors three moons. Two of the moons are habitable."

Jas nodded. "Tochin, itself, is inhabitable. It's mined for the tolium that gets used for blasters. Humans habit Moon Three, where the governmental body is a monarchy, ruled by a decent king…not like Palps. This old man treats his people right."

"You sound like you need to tell a story," Ordo said, offering an opportunity for his new brother to vent.

Jas closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When he opened them, he looked to Ordo and prepared himself for the verbal execution that he was sure would follow at the end of his tale.


	3. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 2**

_Our clone soldiers are humans with the same basic needs and wants as any of us. Just because they live out of an armored shell, it doesn't diminish the character of the man beneath. Just as many of us are humans beneath our _beskar'gam_, they are the same. The Kaminoans had discovered, much to their disappointment, that they just couldn't remove the humanity from a human being, no matter how bio-genetically engineered that human is.  
_Rav Brahlor, clone training sergeant, overheard with the other training sergeants, in discussions regarding her squad

**Entering drop zone of Separatist base, located on Tochin Moon II 783 Days ABG (After the Battle of Geonosis)**

Jas checked his straps for the third time, confirming his DC-17 blaster and all its attachments were secure. Then, he checked again the armor, making sure nothing was loose and the pieces were snugly conformed to his body. Last, he pulled on the straps that attached his kit to his back. He had to be confident that nothing would shift during the descent and that he would land safely with his entire kit in tact.

"_Ner vod_, you're more tied down than a Republic cruiser during a lockdown drill," Dusty sighed. "Trust me. You're not going to lose anything."

Mouse slipped the spare wires and the datapad he was refurbishing into a hard case attached to his kit. "He's smart, he's prepared, and he's making sure he's prepared."

"Ah, the quiet one does have a voice," Dusty teased.

"You chatter when you're nervous," Mouse bit back. "Silence gives nothing away."

"And, I just thought you didn't like us."

"Leave our sniper alone," Gath finally cut in, putting a calming stop to the teasing before it got too far. "Mouse is the best at what he does, and if he likes his quiet, then let him have it."

"You always protect him," Dusty said with a playfully dramatic sigh.

Jas laughed softly at his brothers. They had a knack for breaking the tension when he least expected it. For as much as Dusty and Mouse feigned hatred toward each other, they also had an understanding and a true bond that was as strong as the relationship most twins shared.

How Gath managed his sanity with all of them at times, Jas would never understand. The brother who fell into the role of their leader seemed to have some overabundance of patience. He was protective of them like an older brother should be, despite the fact that they were all the same age and from the same batch of clones. There was just some kind of difference between Gath and the other three that allowed him the ability to exude more tolerance than some of the Jedi.

Dusty had decided that he had enough of Mouse now that the quiet man had retracted back to his silence. "Gath, are you sure they couldn't get someone else for this mission? Seems like all we ever get assigned is small stuff. I mean, that assassination last time was so simple we could have sent Mouse alone. I don't understand why we never get assignments where our skills could be better used elsewhere in the war."

"Because we're the Reject Squad," Mouse muttered.

"You were present during the mission briefing," Gath began as he calmly addressed Dusty and decided to ignore the insult for now. "If you were paying attention, you'd have heard them say that the only way we get more tolium in our blasters is to do this assignment."

Jas had remembered back when he was handed his first blaster that he was taught not only how to fire it and clean it, but every part of it and what made it work. In that first lesson, it was explained how tolium was a gas that was mined as a solid but when refined to the right density, it became a gas that helped to create and release the blaster bolt. The galaxy only had a handful of known sources where tolium could be mined in mass quantities, and the Republic had to be certain they preserved their possession of the few mines they had. Without tolium, the blasters were useless. Until someone could redesign the blasters to work without it, the war would come to a screeching halt, and the Republic would lose the advantage first. Crimson's orders made it very clear that they could not afford the Seps getting the upper hand in any respect, especially not with weaponry.

"ETA to drop zone in five minutes," the pilot confirmed breaking into Jas' recall of his facts.

"Acknowledged," Gath responded. "_Buy'cese_, Crimson Squad. We've got three minutes for one final review of the mission data, one minute to prep, and one to go."

The rest of the squad followed suit and set their helmets on their heads. They then turned their comms to private interface, silently watching one last time their mission brief on the HUD. Facts flashed through quicker than any average human could comprehend, but clones were taught from birth with flash training. Their brains picked up massive information just from a burst of pictures or a band of text, and there was no room for failure in such a mundane task as that. There were a few clones that couldn't learn through flash techniques. They quickly disappeared and everyone learned not to ask about them.

Jas forced his thoughts back from his childhood experiences, as the information about this mission flashed though his HUD. According to the Intel they received, the Second Moon of Tochin became home to a Separatist base with the help of one of the Tochin barons. Apparently, there was some kind of falling out with Baron Erle Zech, who believed that there was legitimate justification in the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He had been outspoken against the Republic and believed more of the ideals of the CIS than the independency and democracy that the Republic upheld.

Under any other circumstances, Jas knew that it would be nothing for the commandos of Crimson to eliminate a Sep base under the guise of invisibility. That was, after all, what they were created to do. The oversized hydrospanner in this mission, though, was that the king of Tochin's Third Moon insisted that they return his daughter alive.

According to the mission brief, Zech had brought in the Separatists to try to negotiate with King Vollan Psach for control of the tolium mines, but the king had turned down their offers. Dissatisfied by the lack of cooperation and being pressured from the Separatists to bring forth another chance at negotiations, Zech had made desperate arrangements with a hired mercenary to handle the kidnapping of Psach's daughter. It was a last-ditch effort to force Psach to give the Separatists Tochin's tolium mining.

Instead of blindly giving into Zech's demands, Vollan contacted the Republic, pleading with them to find a way to bring his only heir, Princess Arlesse Psach, back alive. He wanted nothing less than her unharmed return, going so far as to threaten seceding from the Republic, if he believed it would bring his daughter home to him safe and secure.

The Republic officials felt that losing control of one of the few resources of tolium could potentially turn the tide of the war in the Sep's favor. They provided negotiators who worked hard to convince Psach that they had the resources and capabilities to accomplish a successful rescue mission. They assured him that they would bring in a special operations squad that would not be allowed the probability for failure. Psach was willing to give them the opportunity to safely return Arlesse, but he had made it very clear that the loss of his daughter would result in the loss of his faith in the Republic.

Jas, personally, thought it was a load of political _osik_. If the matter was that detrimental to the Republic's interests, the orders wouldn't go to a little known and barely used squad. Crimson had the reputation for being the rejects of the commando squads and were usually sent on low-level missions. If the tolium mined on Tochin was as necessary as they were led to believe, then it meant that the Republic was finally starting to have a real need for more commando missions and that meant the way the war was being fought had changed dramatically.

A few more flashes of data scrolled through, breaking Jas from his silent opinions. He knew he wasn't supposed to have any, not like the Advanced Recon Commando units, and certainly not like the Null-Class of ARCs, but sometimes he found his mind wandered into thoughts beyond the importance of the mission. He only ever told their training sergeant, Gan Pohin for fear that if the Kaminoans found out he would be considered a defect and eliminated. _Ba'vodu Gan_, Uncle Gan, had assured him that what he felt was normal, as humans are creatures who always have thoughts going through their minds and the real trick was in harnessing those thoughts. Like many of the other Mandalorian sergeants, Gan also had a hard time respecting the Kaminoans. Gan believed that the "aiwha-bait" should have concentrated their genetic tinkering on finding ways for the clones to survive the real dangers of war as opposed letting the scientists waste time trying to improve upon the normal characteristics and quirks of human nature.

Recent holos and statistics about the Psach daughter filled Jas' HUD and brought him back from his straying thoughts again. The stats that he deemed as relevant facts were her height and weight. They would need to know such information for circumstances that might arise in which her height and weight could be beneficial or problematic to the mission. Overall, she was quite a few inches shorter than the average height for a female.

Remembering his factual studies, Jas recalled that the average female stood at five feet, four inches. However, the princess was merely five feet tall, and she would seem dwarfed by the size of the members of Crimson Squad.

The data about her weight noted that she was approximately one hundred thirty-four pounds and was considered to be within the normal healthy standards for her height, even if her weight was considered a bit high by the personal standards of others. She was not in any kind of health risk with that height and weight, and that would make an escape easier.

Another relevant fact was her physical features. Having a visual allowed them the opportunity to be sure they matched the right person to their mission objective. The data noted that she was almost twice his age, currently in the later months of her nineteenth year. Even though Jas was only about eleven years old chronologically, his accelerated aging made him approximately twenty-two standard years old, and that made him strangely older than she was.

The princess' brown hair was not as dark as the color of the clones' hair, as there was a lighter shade of muted brown blended in the strands, and her dull, blue irises gave the appearance of someone who preferred to be immersed in her own solitude, as even in the holo she seemed to project distant thoughts.

Further data noted that there was nothing extraordinary about her as she bore no distinguishing scars or marks and no tattoos or unusual piercings. Her face was characterized as being round in shape, and her brown hair fell in thick, tight curls that disappeared past her shoulders. Her light skin was covered in a pink powder that made her cheeks seem brighter, and her lips were painted in a slightly darker shade of pink that gave the appearance of her lips being more noticeable.

For some reason, the concept of adding false details to a person's face made no sense to Jas, and he wondered why someone would bother to paint themselves in such a manner. It seemed to do nothing but make someone a counterfeit, hiding who they truly were. More data scrolled through, interrupting Jas' opinions again. This time the data advised that she had no illnesses or allergies and that medical treatment could be provided as necessary, should it be required.

A final flash completed the briefing. It was a strict order that for the safety of the princess, she was not to be addressed by name or rank until she was securely within the confines of the palace again.

Jas took a calming breath. Three minutes down. One minute for final prep. The adrenaline began to pump, and his sudden urge to be sick wanted to take over. Shifting his thoughts to concentrate on the objective and what needed to be done, he pulled on the straps one last time.

"_Ner vod_, you're fine," Dusty teased.

"Cut the chatter," Gath ordered. "We launch in 45."

Those last seconds were a long, drawn out blur. Then, Jas and the rest of Crimson Squad were free falling down to the surface of Moon Two. If they landed in their assigned position, they would be a couple hours' walk south of the Separatist base. From that point on, they were to improvise, adapt, and overcome.

**Infiltrating the Separatist base located on Tochin Moon II 783 Days ABG**

With the night as their cover, the gray-armored commandos made their way through the rocky surface of Tochin Moon II. Their landing had been textbook perfect. They sailed through the darkness of night, landing exactly where they needed on the open plain. Their spare weaponry and gear had landed half a mile or so from them, but it didn't take long to retrieve the necessary equipment and distribute it evenly amongst them. Using the night for cover, they discovered that Tochin Moon II had very few trees for them to hide within. However, there was more than enough shrubbery to bury beneath whenever they heard the metallic footsteps of "Tinnies," the slang term some of the squads used to describe Battle Droids.

Surveying their current position, they checked the distance marker on their HUDs, and it advised them that the Separatist base was within twenty yards north of their location.

Enhancing the night vision and the telescopic lenses, Gath was able to see ten battle droids holding sentry duty around the hangar entrance. He had no idea how many more there were on the other sides and in the back.

"Sniper droids on the top four corners of the hangar roof," Dusty said.

"I'll work the roof," Mouse offered. "I already found the perfect sniper location."

Gath nodded silently. He knew Mouse preferred the silence of sniper work. He was better at being a lone commando than a team player. Even though they were all from the same batch, Mouse always stayed further apart from the others and once the rest of the squad learned that if they left Mouse to do his own talking when he wanted instead of forcing a conversation out of him, he got along much better with them all. Mouse, also was not faultless, as he had to learn how to find his solace amongst his brothers as much as they did around him.

The Kaminoans considered purging Crimson Squad more than once because of their squabbles and inability to bond at times. They even went so far as to single out Mouse specifically for elimination, but _Ba'vodu Gan_ had refused to have Mouse terminated for his lack of social interaction when his marksmanship skills were superior to the rest of Crimson.

Gath knew that the four of them challenged Gan every day because they took forever to gel, and it was the reason they were dubbed the Reject Squad. Gan had outspokenly referred to Crimson as his juvenile delinquents, and he knew that every other training sergeant had at least one batch of clones who turned out to be more troublesome than the rest. However, Crimson came close to termination on more than one occasion, and they never could figure out how Gan managed to stop the Kaminoans each time.

For all their faults, though, Gath was grateful they were his team. No other squad would want any of them, not even the ones that had lost members and were awaiting reassignments. For as much as Dusty complained he always wanted "real action," Gath was silently appreciative that they kept getting assigned the low-level missions. He was selfish like that. He wanted to keep his brothers alive, and if it ever came down to it, he'd lay his life on the line for them. Of course, he couldn't tell them that because that would ensure them to stay behind and die with him. He didn't like that idea at all. They made him believe he was their older brother, and that was his role now. He had to protect them.

Watching the droids for a moment, Gath knew it was time to be the older brother and the leader they nominated him to be. "Jas, Dusty, we need to find out what's awaiting us around the rest of the hangar."

"I got north," Dusty said quickly.

"I'll go west," Jas offered.

"That leaves east for me," Gath confirmed. "Okay, just recon for now. Mouse, just watch the roof. No firing until we get a head count on those Tinnies."

"Understood," Mouse answered.

In the next few minutes, Crimson Squad made their way around the hangar. The north and south entrances were most guarded with ten battle droids on each side. The east and west had five per side. Mouse's headcount of the roof only came back with the four droids, one guarding each corner. There were no additional reinforcements on the roof, and that was one advantage Crimson would be glad to take.

The Separatist base was not the kind of base they were expecting to have to infiltrate. It was nothing more than a storage hangar and had no one who would be considered as administrative staff. If not for the droids outside the hangar holding guard duty, the place could have been mistaken for a deserted hangar that was holding scrap parts for sale instead of a captive princess.

However, there was some concern as a small fleet of eight Vulture fighters was prepped inside the hangar. Eight fighters meant an escort fleet, and either someone was going to be coming to Tochin Moon II or someone was going to need escorting out. Gath decided he would rather not find out which it was.

Continuing to watch their scanners, Crimson was provided with further intel: a single non-Separatist ship was registered under the name _Fatal Bliss_ to a man named Qotan Hazar. The most information they could get on Hazar was that he was the mercenary hired by Zech, and what concerned them even more was that Hazar rarely turned in a live prisoner.

The commandos regrouped about thirty minutes later to decide on how to execute an extraction plan. Having to rescue the princess without doing her any harm was not going to make taking out the Separatist base easy, especially when they couldn't find any evidence of her existence in the base itself. Unfortunately for them, the one person they were sent to extract wasn't on any of their sensors.

**Infiltrating the Separatist base located on Tochin Moon II 783 Days ABG**

"That escort fleet is probably going to be taking the merc out of there soon, and if he's got the objective stashed on board, we're going to lose our chance," Dusty said as they were separately surrounding the hangar in their assigned recon positions, just awaiting Gath's order to infiltrate the base. "We've got a flawless record right now. I'd hate to see that change."

"Agreed," Gath answered. "We need to take out the Tinnies around the perimeter of the hangar and then get a good look inside Hazar's ride. Mercs tend to favor hidden compartments in their ships."

"Great. Now, we have to snoop around some strange ship that's probably full of booby traps," Jas sighed. "Too bad our sensors can't just look inside for us."

Dusty answered this time. "Relax, _ner vod_. If we can get close enough, we'll see what we need to see. We're just too far away right now for our scanners to get a good look at the hidden compartments."

"When did you become the optimist?" Jas asked.

"About the same time you became the pessimist," Dusty shot back.

Gath cut in this time. "Save the squabble until we're clear again. Mouse, on my mark, you clean out the roof."

"Been wondering when you'd say that," Mouse replied. "I need those two to shut up for a while so I can concentrate."

Gath talked quickly to keep the other two from snapping back at Mouse. "Dusty, Jas, we're going to need to move fast. We'll take out the Tinnies and get inside the hangar. After that, you're on the merc, and I'm on the communications array so they can't send in any help or fire up those Vulture ships."

Jas answered, "Copy."

Dusty responded, "Acknowledged."

Mouse smiled silently. The truce was laid amongst his brothers, and he could concentrate once again. Staring down the scope of his rifle, the sniper mentally picked off each Tinnie while he waited for Gath's signal. He loved the stillness of sniper work. It was a peaceful, graceful dance as he watched the enemy fall silently in the distance. There was no guilt about it. As one target fell, the next one lined up in his sights. In minutes, his work was done, and he was nothing but a shadow. He liked the solitude. Chatter was for civilians. _Ba'vodu Gan_ never had a complaint about Mouse's lack of social interaction. He told him that his strength was his solitude and that he should never let anyone tell him differently. His brothers would learn to work with him, and he would learn to work with them. It had taken a long time, but Gan never gave up on getting Crimson Squad to gel, and now there was no doubt that they would protect each other and that their squabbling was more of a façade than it was their true sentiments.

Dusty allowed his adrenaline to wash over him. He loved a good firefight and took pride in every Tinnie that got one of his blaster bolts. Occasionally, he had the horror, or privilege, of taking out a wet – a humanoid – on the battlefield, depending on how he viewed that humanoid. Sometimes they were "collateral damage," a living being that happened to walk into the path of his blaster bolts and was shot by their own stupidity for not staying low. The flash of pity Dusty felt about those uncontrollable mistakes usually got to him at some point later, and when he was alone he dealt with the guilt in his own way. _Ba'vodu Gan_ gave him the suggestion to meticulously clean his weaponry and his body armor whenever he felt remorse after a battle, regardless if it was a training exercise or the real thing. Gan explained that if Dusty took the time to wash away every last grain of grit, it would eventually begin to wash away his own dirtiness in his soul. At first, it didn't make a whole lot of sense to Dusty, but he continued with the ritual anyway, trusting that his training sergeant had knowledge from his experiences. Over the course of his short life, Dusty found that he could deal with every battle and every death, knowing that he had a way to cope when it was over. The only time there was no guilt to feel over his actions was when he was taking out the Tinnies. Battle droids were as dumb as scrap metal and he never needed a moment to justify his kill to himself.

Jas swallowed down the familiar nausea that always tried to creep up on him just before he was about to go headlong into something dangerous. It left him feeling cold, as a million pinpricks would jam into his spine. He knew it was the surge of adrenaline, the moment that the logic of his brain told him he was about to do something stupid and life threatening. In his short existence, Jas had learned that if he felt the adrenaline, he was still alive, and when the time came that the adrenaline stopped pumping, that was the time to worry. Often, it was during the moment of the adrenaline rush that Jas found his thoughts roamed with wild abandonment, and right now his thoughts were running rampant. He knew that he had to get his concerns back under control. If not, he risked his life as well as his brothers' lives. Thinking about the mental box that _Ba'vodu Gan_ had taught Jas how to create, Jas reigned in the stray thoughts and concentrated on protecting himself and his brothers. The box was nothing but a visual of a crate with a lock on it, and it was used to store everything that was irrelevant to the moment of the mission. The box could be locked just seconds before they were to engage an enemy, and it could only be opened when the danger had passed. Jas found it always cleared his mind and gave him the clarity to act on his training and instincts without the fear that his stray thoughts would cause a distraction.

Gath took a deep breath, preparing himself for the moment of execution. It was always the worst feeling for him. He was about to order his brothers into danger and potential death. His orders, whether right or wrong, always gave the risk that one or more of them would not make it out safely. He hated that split-moment of realization, and no matter how many times he ordered them to engage an enemy it never got any easier. In fact, it seemed to get worse…like they were pushing their luck every time they were successful. He knew the orders were simple: they would snipe what they could, grenade what they could, and then run headlong into the mess of whatever was left. It was never pretty, and commandos were never given many options. That was why they were the last ones called and the ones who did the dirty work. Still, it put a fear in his stomach, the kind that froze his innards for the few seconds it took him to get the mission orders past his lips. _Ba'vodu Gan_ could never make Gath's job any easier. He simply told him not to forget the sensation of fear and dread because it meant he was doing the right thing. When the day came that he stopped caring about his team, that was the day he was unfit to be a leader.

The order finally passed through Gath's lips in the simple command, "_Oya_!" It was Mandalorian for "let's hunt," and right now, they had become the hunters.

Within moments, Mouse reported in, "Four down, no replacements. Moving to the south now to see what you left me."

Dusty and Jas had managed to take out three Tinnines from each of their assigned positions before the droids began firing back. Gath took out two, and then launched a grenade into the remaining three. Dusty and Jas each fired grenades into the remaining droids and then began their runs toward the hangar. Shrapnel from the droids' bodies flew in all directions.

"Aw, come on, I just polished this!" Dusty shouted at the pieces of shrapnel that scratched and dented his armor.

Jas felt his armor pelted by a few blaster bolts from the last couple of droids in his way. He swung the Deece around and blasted them into scrap metal.

Mouse took to taking out what he could of the south side. Then, he launched a grenade into the few droids left behind.

After only a couple minutes, the commandos had taken out the small garrison of Tinnies surrounding the perimeter of the hangar. Holding their blasters in crisp, attack positions, they scattered inside the hangar and took cover as another squad of battle droids greeted them.

A shadow of a darkly covered man blurred past, heading for the _Fatal Bliss_.

"Hold them off!" the man shouted.

The voice caught Dusty's attention, and he turned to the human quickly noting the black wrappings around his head and body. He chased after mercenary, trying to not to kill him just yet until they got the information they needed. Blaster bolts slammed into Dusty's armor, and an explosion forced him to fall back into a cover position behind a crate of supplies. Momentarily frustrated, Dusty muttered, "Fierfek."

Jas tossed a grenade into the small garrison of droids, taking out half of them. "_Shab_, couldn't they have spared us a Jedi? Everyone else gets one."

"Reject Squad isn't allowed the same privileges," Mouse grumbled as he rolled onto the floor and crouched behind a pile of plasteel shipping cartons, using the unloaded cargo for protection.

"Cover me!" Gath shouted as he slid his way under the communications desk. He pulled out a device about the size of a thermal detonator and tapped a small button on it that extended out an input plug. Shoving the plug into the port of the communications console, smoke began to waft up from the keys and lights, burning out every last circuit card and melting the wires into a mess of slag. Gath realized that he rather liked the small computer cookers, and the more he used them, the easier it made his missions. Once they were planted, everything inside was melted to become irreparable slag. Poking his head up from beneath the console, Gath turned his attention back to helping his brothers in their continued firefight.

"Crimson doesn't need Jedi," Gath responded now to Jas' question in the pauses between firing his Deece. Addressing Mouse, he admonished, "And, we are _not_ a Reject Squad."

The rest of the battle didn't take long, and within the next ten minutes, the small garrison of droids had been defeated.

"Get me some backup here!" Dusty yelled as he ran toward the closing ramp of the _Fatal Bliss_.

Jas was right behind Dusty, keeping him covered. Then, Gath and Mouse hurried to catch up. They rolled up the closing ramp, following their brothers inside.

Once inside, the four members of Crimson Squad quickly regrouped in the cargo hold that was immediately up the ramp. After a few silent moments, they disappeared like ghosts as they split off in different directions, trying to locate Hazar and get a reading on the princess. They knew better than to expect any mission to be easy, as overconfidence would be the first step in either losing one of their squad or a defeat so horrible, they would have preferred death. Crimson Squad had a flawless record, and that win percentage was what motivated them. They were going to find Tochin's princess and get her back safely. Failure was never an option.


	4. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes_: Thanks to everyone who has shown an interest! I do apologize for not being very quick with posting. I blame reality and splitting my time between two entirely different galaxies for that. (To my Voltron friends who have been reading this – yes, Hazar's name was intentionally chosen as a nod to you all!)

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 3**

_No one told the Kaminoans to remove the clones' sense of nobility. Chivalry is part of the genetic code that is the foundation for a good soldier, and a damsel in distress is something no man, cloned or not, should ever ignore. I merely instructed Crimson to be polite and considerate to a lady unless otherwise threatened. It was naïve of me to think that a moment of chivalry would ever turn into something…permanent.  
_Gan Pohin commenting on Gath's debriefing report of the Tochin Mission

**On board _Fatal Bliss_, located on Tochin Moon II 783 Days ABG**

Moving like a predator on the hunt, Gath silently slipped into alcoves and hidden recesses that he was certain even Hazar didn't know he had. He kept his footsteps light, easily ignoring the weight of his armor and his kit. He had been trained for nearly his entire life with the burdens on his body so that he was accustomed to them and wouldn't have the opportunity to dwell on his own personal discomfort when he needed to concentrate on the mission objective instead. His short life was not what anyone would consider fun or glamorous, but it was all he knew, and he was sure to do it to the best of his ability. His brothers were counting on him to be nothing less than perfect.

Gath's HUD monitored around him, allowing him to maintain his attention on whatever lie ahead. The hallways he moved within were standard plasteel alloy: gray and dull. There were no decorations or showpieces adorning the walls. The floor was nothing but plain, thin grating with a plasteel layer beneath. The grating was rough under his boots, and Gath realized that it was a design technique to help the crew maintain their footing when the flying got rough.

Continuing on his journey toward the cockpit, Gath stopped suddenly when the floor vibrated beneath his feet, and he knew it was no longer just the grating under his boots. He came to the instant realization that someone had fired up the engines, and that meant one of two things: one, Hazar didn't realize they were on board, or two Hazar had programmed the ship on a collision course and was going to bail out after having locked them inside. Gath decided he didn't like either of those options, and he had to move quickly if he was going to commandeer the ship from Hazar's possession.

--- --- --- --- ---

Mouse had remained in the cargo hold and decided to stand guard, taking the dual duty of preventing anyone from leaving – and making sure no one invited themselves on board without his exclusive permission.

From the dark corner that was his perch, Mouse had managed to embed himself within the center of a high pile of crates, and he settled his body nearly flat on top of one of the sturdy cartons. In this position, he had a complete visual on the entire cargo hold, and he aimed the Deece into the open space, silently watching every bit of movement. He was aware of a thin strip of orange material that was connected to a slat on the air vent. It flapped the entire time air cycled through the hold, waving and floating at the corner of his peripheral vision as though daring him to turn his eyes away from the open area. Mouse knew better than to let an insignificant distraction like that interfere with his objective. His sniper training had been excruciatingly intense at times, to the point that he had to learn how to block out muscle cramps from hours of inactivity and ignore the internal warning systems of his body's natural requirements.

Two gray rodents scurried along the floor and scrambled into a corner on the far side, reminding Mouse of his current duty. The rodents were only visible for a brief moment, but Mouse instantly caught that they were no larger than his fist and that they were virtually harmless, unless they got into the food supply. Then, they would nest and breed nearly excessively, eating every last remnant of the foodstuffs.

Instead of aiming at the rodents, Mouse aimed toward the direction from where they had emerged. It seemed logical that they would have been frightened by something to scurry that quickly into open territory. Mouse found he was not disappointed when a small droid rolled across the floor, going toward the interior of the ship. It wasn't tall but was cylindrical in shape and was strangely painted in black and red. Mouse ignored the droid for now. Unless it showed any signs of being a threat, he would worry about it later. Right now his priority was still maintaining the _Fatal Bliss'_ guest list.

The sudden rumble of the engines shook the crates in the cargo hold, and Mouse silently cursed. Something was about to go down.

--- --- --- --- ---

Dusty turned another corner in the tight engine room, opting to use his DC-15 side arm blaster in the restricting space. He would have preferred the larger DC-17, as that was his weapon of choice, but with size of the 17, he would be left turning it and twisting it in awkward positions just to maneuver around. He didn't have time to worry about maneuvering a weapon when he knew the 15 would substitute better.

He ducked under a low coolant pipe, concentrating on every sound and ignored the soft hissing of a pipe that released gas pressure on a regular basis. He even recognized the metal ticking and pinging as the expanding and contracting of warm air flowing through the environmental controls.

Dusty had concluded that if Hazar was still concerned about maintaining an appropriate temperature on his ship, then there was a good probability that they would find the princess somewhere on board.

Between the observations of his own eyes and his HUD continually showing him that there weren't any signs of life in the engine room, he knew that keeping the search going in this compartment would be waste of time. He decided that he would be better off meeting up with Jas in the crew quarters.

"Engine room secure," he reported over the private channel.

"_Acknowledged_," came Gath's reply.

Suddenly, the pitch of the motors began to rise, and the room seemed to take on a life of its own. Lights moved about on the electrical boards, and the pipes started to breathe and sing.

"Fierfek," Dusty muttered and he moved as quickly as he could through the tight compartment. He would be glad to get out in an open hallway again where he could swap out the side arm blaster for his DC-17.

--- --- --- --- ---

Jas ignored the rumbling of the engines and the slight change in cabin pressure as the gravitational stabilizers kicked in. Instead of worrying about the ship taking off, he cautiously stepped through the deserted hallway where the crew's quarters were located. A door was open to his right, and he did a quick turn into the room, finger securely on the trigger. Upon instant inspection, he saw it was the crew galley, and it appeared to be deserted.

The cabinets were closed, and the chairs were scattered to the corners of the room. The small table had been pushed to a far corner, close to the sink.

Jas's eyes caught sight of the familiar pieces of white armor that lay on the table. They were left in the process of being cleaned, as dried blood was smeared on the chest piece. Jas' fingers flexed over the trigger of the Deece, and he dared the _shabuir_ who had taken the armor from one of his brothers to show himself.

Moving toward the armor, Jas tried to see if there was any identification tag left on it, but it had been long ago scavenged. A noise caught his attention and forced his interest from the broken and ghostly image of one of his distant brothers.

A blaster bolt struck Jas squarely in the chest, and it knocked him into the wall. However, instinct and training kicked in instantly. In nanoseconds, he had his Deece aimed at the _di'kut_ who still held the smoking blaster aimed at him. Jas released three shots into the Ubese's chest. Apparently, the _utreekov_ didn't know that Katarn armor was not easily penetrated, especially not by a basic blaster bolt.

Jas stepped toward the reclining, unmoving Ubese, weapon still at the ready. He used his boot to turn the being over and had no doubt that his shots had been true. Three smoking holes to the chest and ribs confirmed the kill.

"_Sitrep!_" Gath ordered.

"I'm fine. It wasn't Hazar, just an underling," Jas explained, knowing that Gath would want a situation report after hearing the sounds of a confrontation. "I'm still trying to secure the crew quarters."

"_Copy_," Gath said with relief evident in his voice. "_Dusty, can you get to Jas?_"

"_Still on my way_," he responded. "_Any idea yet who's flying this rig?_"

"_Trying to make it me_," Gath answered.

"_I got dibs on copilot_," Mouse said eagerly.

"Anything to avoid the action," Dusty muttered as he picked up his pace and moved through the hallways, with his Deece in a steady hold. He was more than ready to fire at anything or anyone who gave the slightest impression of being a threat. He wanted to make sure he did his part to protect his brothers and get the mission completed.

The sound of a whirring motor came from his left. Dusty turned to see a small droid that stood no higher than his thigh and was thinner than the standard astromech series. The droid was painted in a color scheme of red and black, colors that gave the machine a menacing appearance. The droid extended both a vibroblade and an electrical shock prod. It sparked the prod toward Dusty as though offering a warning.

"Learn some manners," Dusty grumbled and shot a blaster bolt into the droid.

The smell of fried circuits filled the corridor. Then, a blaster cocked behind Dusty, aimed between his shoulder blades.

"You're going to need to pay for that." The voice that spoke was uncharacteristically soft-spoken, even though the threat that came across was a prelude to death.

Dusty smirked beneath his _buy'ce_ at the _di'kut_ who had no idea that Katarn armor could withstand blaster bolts like a force field around a Republic cruiser. Slowly raising his arms in what appeared to be surrender, Dusty feigned politeness.

"Our intel says you have someone that belongs to the Republic."

"Sorry, don't know what you're talking about," the man answered from behind him. "I just needed a place to make some repairs."

"Of course, you did," Dusty responded, keeping himself mannered. Any of his brothers knew that if Dusty was being this polite, he was about to get aggressive.

Moving cleanly and quickly, Dusty suddenly spun on the man behind him, bringing his Deece up into his chin. In a fraction of a second, Dusty saw that the man behind him was the same black-wrapped man he encountered in the hangar. Dusty followed the hit to Hazar's chin by ramming the butt of the blaster into the merc's stomach.

Dusty then trained his Deece into Hazar's face as he lay on the floor. The merc's blaster had scattered out of his hand and landed across the hallway, well out of reach.

"I don't appreciate lies," Dusty said angrily.

The merc smiled strangely, as though there was a joke only he knew. "You're different from the other one."

"Stop evading the question," Dusty complained. "Where'd you store her?"

Jas' voice came through on the helmet communications, practically answering Dusty's question. "_I got a life reading in a compartment beside the captain's quarters_."

Dusty privately returned Jas' call. "Wait for me, _ner vod_, in case…"

Hazar took advantage of Dusty's distraction when he seemed to have gotten overly quiet. He suddenly slammed his hand onto a small panel in the wall near him, rolling into a secret compartment behind the wall. Dusty heard it lock it securely, but he slammed on the metal plating anyway. Unfortunately, it wouldn't move, and he thought about firing on it but hesitated in case it would ricochet in the confined hallway. He immediately reported into the communications.

"_Aru'ela!_ Hazar's on the loose. I repeat, hostile!"

--- --- --- --- ---

Jas found the keypad to the doorway that was next to the captain's quarters. He inspected the area around the door, trying to rule out any possibility of there being a trap set. It would not be uncommon to open the door only to have it blow apart into shrapnel that would kill whoever was inside. He considered his options and had decided that there was no sign of trap around the door. Hazar hadn't thought that far ahead because he never considered that commandos would be called in to wander through his ship. Jas opted instead to use the code-breaker, a small hand-held datapad that had a pair of wires trailing from it, to break into the chamber's lock.

He plugged the wires into a set of identical ports on either side of the keypad. He tapped a few keys on the datapad and stood as patiently as he could, keeping his head scanning around the hallway for any sign of movement.

Suddenly, a female's scream came from inside the compartment. Waiting for the code hacker device was not an option now, and Jas quickly pulled free the line of explosive tape that was coiled in the small storage area of his thigh plate.

Dusty finally caught up with Jas. "I tried to tell you to wait for backup. Could be an ambush in there."

Another scream came from inside the compartment.

"_Shab_," Dusty grumbled as he took from Jas the rest of the tape, and the two of them worked to set it as quickly as they could. After a few moments, they both took safe positions away from the doorframe. Dusty took the remote detonator and pushed a button on the device, causing a bright red light to flash around the doorframe. In the dimness of the hallway, it looked like a string of lava outlining the door. Suddenly, the door fell forward, and slammed loudly onto the deck plating inside the chamber.

With Deeces ready, Dusty and Jas entered the prisoner hold. Hazar had managed to get himself inside the chamber from an unmarked door on the opposite side. He held a young woman before him, and the commandos easily recognized her as the princess from their mission briefing. Hazar held one arm around her ribs locking her against him, forcing her to become his unwilling human shield. His grip squeezed her ribcage, causing obvious pain as her breathing was strained, and she cried out every time he moved her. His other hand held a small blaster aimed at her temple, and there was no room for negotiation in his eyes as he looked to the clones.

"Your little princess and I are leaving," Hazar demanded.

"What do you plan to do?" Dusty taunted, "Jump out the cargo bay?"

"You're so naïve, slave soldiers," Hazar said shaking his head. He pulled the princess with him and moved closer to the hidden passageway from where he had emerged.

"I knew your repairs were a lie," Dusty argued, seeming to take personal offense at the merc's words.

Hazar smirked lopsidedly. "Believe what you want, enslaved clone."

Jas heard Dusty breathe angrily through the helmet speakers and knew his brother was losing his patience.

"It wouldn't be wise to stop me," Hazar said as he stepped closer to the doorway. "I have no worries about killing her now that I've been compromised, but if you leave me be, I'll let her live."

Jas watched the princess try to pull free from the mercenary, but his grasp was firm.

Dusty kept his Deece aimed, refusing to be intimidated. "I don't plan to stop you." Going to private communications so that only Jas could hear him, he said, "I just plan to kill you."

Jas suddenly clicked his communications to private interface with Dusty. "We can't harm her. Are you sure you can take the shot?"

Opening the public channel again, Dusty asked out loud, "Does it rain on Kamino?"

Hazar suddenly stopped moving, as he seemed confused with the suddenly strange question that the clone had made, and it was the opportunity Dusty needed. He fired once, making a clean shot to the black head wrapping. Hazar fell backwards, his numb hands losing their grip on the princess. She fell forward to her knees but wasted no time as she scrambled to the corner and pulled herself into a tight ball.

Jas now returned his communications to an open channel and watched Dusty as he stood with his Deece still trained on Hazar, somehow expecting the merc to lash out at him. Dusty brought the toe of his boot experimentally into Hazar's ribs. The man was dead, and his cold, green eyes were still looking up at the ceiling. Dusty then turned to the tiny and shaking form huddled in the corner not sure what to make of her.

Jas saw Dusty's hesitation to approach the princess. Stepping cautiously forward, Jas gave his attention to the young woman. "Ma'am?"

Dusty stepped closer to Jas, knowing that Hazar was no longer their concern. "We don't have all day," he complained. "What's wrong with her?"

Jas reached a hand toward her with his palm up, and he realized that he must have looked like he was trying to get the attention of a wounded animal instead of a high-ranked member of Tochin's royal family. Not sure yet what to tell Dusty for the moment, Jas began to think that maybe a wounded animal wasn't such a bad analogy for the princess. She was obviously frightened, and although she didn't look physically harmed, there was something in her eyes that had marred her emotionally.

"We're here to take you home," Jas offered as he crouched down, keeping his hand out for her. "We're Republic soldiers."

Slowly she looked to them, forcing herself to make her tears settle. Shakily she began to bring her hand toward his. However, the attempt was short-lived as her hand suddenly fell away when both Jas and Dusty made a sudden reaction to the yelling that came over their helmet communications. They had forgotten that the princess couldn't hear the incoming voices and their startled body movements led her to fear them again.

"_We got trouble!_" Gath shouted. "_Mouse and I are in the cockpit and it feels like this bucket of bolts is about to fall apart around us._"

"Oops," Dusty said sheepishly, "Maybe Hazar wasn't lying about the repairs."

The ship suddenly lurched beneath them, and Dusty grabbed onto a wall to steady himself. Jas fell to his knees and set a hand on the floor to stabilize himself. The princess stayed tucked into her corner and seemed firmly secured there from the wild movements of the _Fatal Bliss_.

"Let me know what you need done," Dusty replied to Gath as he got his balance back and started to leave the prison cell. Turning to Jas before he stepped into the hallway, he said, "You need to get her out of there. I did my good deed of the day."

Jas sighed quietly. It was up to him to deal with the wounded animal. Looking at the princess again, he decided that it was unfair to think of her as such. Maybe part of the reason she was so frightened was because of their intimidating presence. After all, commando armor wasn't meant to resemble colorful flowers or ornately winged insects. Their armor was to give a clear message to the enemy that their moments were numbered. Jas never thought about what the armor put into the minds of the civilians, and frankly, he didn't normally care. The princess was the first civilian he really encountered that wasn't part of the local traffic he was ordered to ignore.

"Ma'am, please don't be afraid." Moving slowly closer Jas brought his hand forth once more. "We are here to keep you safe."

The princess bit her lower lip gently and slowly uncurled herself. Her eyes looked to the dead body of the mercenary. Then, she pulled herself tighter again.

Jas suddenly understood why she was so frightened as his eyes trailed to where hers were looking. "He's dead. He can't hurt you again."

Turning back to the princess, he saw his words had done no good. She was still curled in her tiny little ball, staring with terror at the sight of the dead, black-wrapped man.

Sighing quietly, Jas offered, "I can remove him if it will calm you."

Jas saw her eyes flashed to him after he said that, and he knew he had no choice now but to do it. Cursing under his breath at the thought of hauling some dead mercenary for a total stranger, Jas grabbed Hazar's body and dragged him out of the prisoner cell. Without care or ceremony, he pulled the man by his legs out into the hallway and dumped him in a dark section of the corridor. He then returned to the cell and saw that the princess still hadn't moved from her confined space.

_Shab_, he thought, wondering what else he would possibly have to do.

Her eyes blinked slowly now, as though waking up from a nightmare when she saw that Hazar's body was gone. Then, she looked over to Jas, and there was relief on her face.

Jas decided to take the chance of stepping closer to her. He knelt on the floor before her, keeping a polite distance for the moment. He had decided that if it came to it, he was prepared to grab her and throw her over his shoulder. He was just trying to do the courteous thing first because he knew that's what Gan would have told him to do. Chivalry, _Ba'vodu Gan_ had said, was the difference between a soldier doing his duty to protect others and a mercenary who did his duty for credits. Unlike a mercenary, though, a soldier had to be skilled in more than just dexterity of weaponry. A soldier needed to exhibit courtesy as well as courage. A mercenary had the luxury of doing the job to his or her liking. Well, Jas knew that he had been more than chivalrous already. He just never thought he would have to put the theory of chivalry into use. He never imagined that he would have to deal with a female other than a Jedi, and he had seen that Jedi were more than capable of taking care of themselves.

A voice that was strained and scared broke Jas from his mental complaining. He realized it was the princess, and her words sounded like a raw whisper. "I just want to go home."

"That's why we're here, Ma'am," Jas told her. His words came out softer and gentler than he thought he was capable of doing. Then again, he never had a reason to be gentle like this before with anyone. It wasn't like Crimson had run scenarios of rescuing frightened princesses in their training drills.

Jas decided it was time to edge a little closer to her, and he raised his hand toward her, offering it again. This time, though, instead of holding his hand to her like a wounded animal, he offered it as though to help her stand.

Gradually she uncurled herself and inched her way out from the corner. Jas took a moment to mentally compare the resemblances between the holo they were provided and the young woman before him. Her cosmetics were long gone, and her blue eyes seemed bright against her pale skin. Her brown hair was twisted and knotted, no longer falling in the carefully placed curls that the holo had suggested. She resembled a frightened child more than a young woman who was an heir to a mining kingdom.

Taking a quick inventory for any obvious injuries, Jas saw no signs of any cuts or bruises. It was hard to see much, though, as her clothing covered most of her. In the moment of calm, he noticed that the heavy fabric of the burgundy dress she wore was embroidered with silver trim along the wrists of her long sleeves and on the edge of her skirts. The bodice of the dress was cream colored with delicate, burgundy ribbon that was sewn into the edging. A darker shade of burgundy created a pattern of twists and swirls along the outer skirt of the dress. A pair of white boots peeked out from beneath the skirts, and Jas was momentarily relieved to see that she at least had enough sense to wear flat-bottomed heels. He could never understand how or why any woman could stand, let alone walk, on a pair of spikes beneath their feet.

Moving slightly closer, Jas felt his eyes catch on the silver pendant that rested against her chest bone. The seven-pointed star reflected a distorted image of his helmet, and the blue of his visor mirrored brightly onto the silver. Each of the seven points had also caught the reflection of his blue visor, and it made the pendant appear to have blue stones on each of the seven points.

Unintentionally, Jas felt his eyes drift downward from her pendant and took notice to the modest curvature of her chest. The bodice of the dress held tightly around her, and the rounded collar of the dress rested just above the part of her anatomy that was referenced as cleavage. Jas discovered that there was something fascinating to him about the way her flesh responded to each breath she took, and he found the movements to be appealing on some basic and instinctual level.

He knew she couldn't see him under the _buy'ce_, but Jas still felt his eyes rise quickly and pushed aside the reddened flush he knew was on his face. It was the closest he had ever been to a female, and even though her anatomy had nothing to do with the mission, the primal side of him was captivated by what lie there.

Forcing himself to remember his imaginary locked box of stray thoughts, Jas turned back to the objective of the mission and knew that the feminine parts of her body were not a requirement for getting her returned safely. Part of him still felt that he needed to apologize for his staring; however, he pushed aside the thought of an apology as he reminded himself that she couldn't see his eyes or the curious roaming they had done.

Something small grasped his hand, and it broke him from the battle between his primal fascinations and what was required to successfully complete this mission. It had taken him a moment to realize that the princess had taken his offered hand and had wrapped her fingers around his gloved hand seeming to cling onto him. Pushing aside his distractions, Jas also noticed that she had crept from the corner and was sitting nervously before him.

Her eyes were frightened, and she appeared to be looking hard at the visor as though trying to see if he really was who he said he was.

"Will you keep me safe?" she asked softly.

Jas now saw it was more than just fright. She had genuine terror in her eyes, and whatever that _di'kut_ mercenary had done to her, it was going to leave her scarred. Then, he wondered if the merc had violated her in ways he didn't even want to imagine, and he felt a strange pity for her, should she have to endure that kind of exam.

"Your safety is my job, Ma'am," Jas explained. "Are you…" he paused wondering how he would verbalize such a question. He decided to start simply and go more specific as needed. "Are you hurt?"

"Shab!_ Jas, what the _haran_ are you doing down there?_" Dusty asked over the comm.

Jas quickly turned himself over to private communications. "She's been terrorized, and I'm trying to earn her trust."

"_Is she harmed?_" Mouse cut in.

"Not that I can see."

"_Then, the objective has been reached_," Mouse answered.

"_We're having problems with the engines,_" Gath explained, the ever-patient voice of reason. "_Mouse and I are trying to just stop the ship from falling apart before we even reach Moon III's atmosphere. I'm ordering you to get yourselves into a safe crash position in case this entire escape goes sour._"

"_In other words, we might just die_," Dusty said with feigned casualness.

"_We'll be breaking into the atmosphere very soon_," Mouse reported.

"_You don't have a lot of time_, ner vod," Gath said soberly. "_Find somewhere safe._"

"Copy," Jas answered. He sighed quietly and looked at the princess, wondering if this was about to be his last mission and if he was about to die with a complete stranger, as opposed to being with his brothers. That thought made him feel strangely cheated somehow.

"Can you hear me?" she asked, and he saw that there was a concerned expression on her face.

Jas pushed aside the moment of his fear and shoved it into his locked box. He knew when this mission was over and he opened that box, there was going to be one ugly mess of emotions and thoughts in it. He then set his _buy'ce_ back to an open frequency so that he could continue his conversation with the princess. He had been aware that she was talking to him at the same time as his brothers, but he didn't think it was important to tell her that his helmet could be put to a private conversation with the slightest blink.

"Yes, I can hear you," he answered, "Did the merc touch…?"

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head, and he saw she was being truthful. "He said he was told not to harm me."

Relief washed through Jas. A violation of her body would certainly have complicated things. It would probably have been an instant failure of the mission in the king's eyes.

"We're having some malfunctions with this ship," Jas told her, not wanting to think about a mission failure and not entirely certain why the thought of someone violating her angered him so greatly. He brushed it off as just an instinct that came from being a good soldier.

Fear suddenly washed over her, and her tiny grasp on his hand grew fierce. Jas had nearly forgotten that he was still holding her hand, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

"We're going to complete this mission," Jas assured her, changing his thoughts. "My brothers will land us safely, and you'll get home. Crimson Squad does not fail missions."


	5. Chapter 4

_Author's Notes_: Thanks once again to everyone who is following this story! (To anyone who is watching for continuity errors, yes, I had to go back and change a small portion of the previous chapter after I realized the way this chapter evolved.)

As always hope I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow, and I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 4**

_Since she was a child, I never stopped Arlesse from viewing the galaxy with an innocent heart, and for as many times as I wanted to expose her to the realistic and unpleasant side of politics, I just could never bring myself to destroy the safe fantasy I created for her to live within. I made the mistake of overprotecting her because she is all I have. I thought it was more important for me to be her loving father than to be a king who would teach her how to play the twisted political games that take place in the royal court and in the rest of the galaxy.  
_King Vollan Psach admitting his faults to the Republic negotiator prior to Crimson's deployment on Tochin's Moon II

**On Board **_**Fatal Bliss  
**_**784 Days ABG**

Gath yanked hard on the controls, watching the gaseous atmosphere of Moon III grow murkier while the _Fatal Bliss_ pushed closer towards it. Had he not been fighting for his life and that of his brothers, he might have found the frosted-looking halo of gas around the planet fascinating. Maybe one day, if they survived this, he might take some time to view the astronomy holos of other planets and appreciate how the sight can be beautiful as opposed to being the sign of a deadly encounter.

Pulling on the controls again and trying to maintain his grip, Gath pushed the frivolous idea aside. If they survived this mission, there would never be time to enjoy much of anything. If they weren't assigned to another operation, it was a cool-down in stasis until new mission orders arrived. With the accelerated aging they suffered, stasis was the only way to guarantee that any of them would stay in the prime of their lives while not deployed.

A shudder bucked the ship hard, and the controls threatened to break free from Gath's grasp. He ignored the warning light above the canopy, the one that flashed in panic and wailed with a non-stop whine. It seemed to be screaming at him that all the shields had disintegrated, and right now that was only part of the concern.

Beside him, Mouse fought with the navigational controls trying to get the computer to comprehend that the moon was rapidly coming up from below them as opposed to coming at them from behind. Gath heard his brother mutter something about hotwiring a _di'kut_ in places the sunshine has never seen.

Gath smirked at that thought. It was probably the most animated Mouse had been in a long time. Suddenly, the ship lifted slightly and the display monitor between the two of them scrolled through lines of data that were describing the atmospheric gases as well as providing them with an indicator that estimated the time left before impact.

"Maybe it was better not knowing," Mouse grumbled, aware that the time was showing mere minutes until they would begin a fireballing descent.

"Don't worry, _ner vod_," Gath said. "At least now the computer knows which way is up again."

"Picked a hell of a time to become an optimist," Mouse said softly, not surprised to hear Gath's quiet chuckle in response.

Dusty's voice came over the helmet communications. He had returned to the engine room and was working on rerouting power from whatever systems he could in order to buy them more time. "_I've got as much power diverted from the life support and internal lighting systems as I can. Try once again to regenerate the shields._"

Mouse ran his hands over a series of buttons on the control panel, and the shields had regenerated to only thirty percent. He opted to divert them to the front where the cockpit was located, and he stretched what he could to the underside of the ship. It was better than nothing, but Mouse doubted that even the thin shielding would do much for any length of time, and he still feared that the moment they hit the barrier of unprocessed gases surrounding Moon III their short lives would be even shorter. At the very least, though, he knew that the miniscule shielding would delay their fiery descent into the atmosphere by a few seconds. And, that was not a reassuring thought by any means.

"You probably bought us ten more seconds, _ner vod_," Gath said.

"Time to read that novel I've been procrastinating," Mouse mumbled.

"_Hey, our lives are short anyway_," Dusty shot back. "_Ten seconds for us is at least a full day to a civvie._"

--- --- --- --- ---

Jas had kept his helmet communications open so that he could hear the conversation amongst his brothers, but he kept it on a private channel so that the princess would not be able to listen to them. The last thing he needed her to hear was his brothers joking about their remaining moments of life. Being bred only for the purpose of war left a spoiled and dark sense of humor in most clones, and the vast majority of civvies could not appreciate or accept such concepts so lightly.

The ship's glow lamps quickly shut down, and Jas calmly clicked on the lights connected to his helmet. Not being privy to the conversations and having no forewarning about the loss of the lighting, the princess pulled tighter toward him and her grasp on his hand seemed to tighten more.

Her voice was filled with concern. "What happened?"

"They diverted the power," Jas explained. His words were soothing in the way he had heard Gan talk to him when he was young and always afraid that one day the Kaminoans would take him for reconditioning. Keeping his voice calm, Jas spoke as though he had practiced this drill hundreds of times before and knew exactly what would be at the end of the exercise. "It'll be okay."

Looking around the small prisoner cabin, Jas saw the secret compartment from where Hazar had emerged. Inspiration struck him, and he suddenly felt a flash of hope.

"Gath, I think there's an escape pod," he explained quickly. "Hazar didn't seem worried about the ship falling apart, and he had a certainty about escaping."

"_Then, find it, Jas. It won't be long now before we burn up in the atmosphere_."

Without thought, Jas took advantage of the princess' grasp on his hand. He got to his feet, hauling her with him. "Ma'am, you need to come with me."

The young woman easily stood with him, but her grasp never relented. Jas had begun to think that she would follow him into Hell now if decided to go there. He smirked at that thought, the irony of it possibly true. If they burned up in the atmosphere, it may as well be Hell. It would probably be the worst pain he could ever imagine for at least a couple seconds, especially if the lack of oxygen didn't kill him first.

Pushing aside the thought of becoming a shooting star, Jas entered the tight corridor and moved his head around him so that the lights on his helmet could provide him with a better visual.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I told you before," he replied calmly. He didn't want to give her falsified hopes in case he was wrong, and he decided to keep the answer vague. "You're going home."

Jas noted that the right side of the hallway had a narrow passageway that seemed to be parallel to the public hallway from where he and Dusty had entered the prison cell. He had a feeling that if they moved in that direction, they'd eventually return to the ship's cargo hold, and Jas was fairly certain that there was no escape pod in there.

Looking toward the left side of the hallway, the passageway seemed impassable, as it was a plasteel wall blocking the path. Jas looked at the wall for a moment and remembered what Gath had said earlier in the mission about mercenaries favoring hidden compartments in their ships. Their finding of the princess in an unadorned room was proof of Gath's suspicion. Jas decided it was probably a good guess to trust that instinct again. He pushed his free hand onto the wall and was disappointed when he saw nothing happen. Moving his eyes and spot lamps downward, he saw a small square at the bottom of the wall. It was only a few inches in size, but it was placed off-center on the right side of the panel. Jas kicked it gently, and the larger panel popped open a few inches. The small square acted like a hidden doorknob, and the kick to the square had released the lock mechanism on the hidden door.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Jas said as he gently pried his hand from the princess. He hoped she wouldn't be offended that he needed both his hands back. "Just stay close now."

Pushing the door to the side, Jas saw a small cabin that could fit three people tightly and four uncomfortably. Considering the small size of the princess, Jas was pretty certain that all five of them would fit. They just might have to squeeze together a little closer than any of them had ever intended.

"I found the escape pod," Jas confirmed into his helmet. "It's in the crew quarters behind the prison cell. Dusty can lead the way. He was here earlier."

"How did you know?" the princess asked.

Jas moved the princess into the cabin and pressed her into a corner where she would be safe and out of the way.

"Nothing on a merc's ship is what it seems," he explained as he began hitting the switches on the control panel, bringing the small pod to life. The quiet whine of the power filling the tiny craft was one of the most beautiful sounds Jas had heard all day.

A hard bang suddenly struck the _Fatal Bliss_, throwing Jas against the pilot's seat. The princess let out a shout of pain, and Jas spared a look behind him. He saw that she had fallen onto her knees, landing on the floor.

The priority of getting the escape pod up and running overrode his sense of courtesy for the moment. Her father would just have to understand that unharmed didn't mean slightly bruised, and her father would have to understand that slightly bruised was better than not at all. Looking back at the control panel, Jas moved his eyes over every inch of it, fearing that the jolt to the ship had destroyed their only chance for escape. However, as he quickly inventoried that everything was still working in good order, he released a breath of relief. Jas turned on a screen and brought up the limited information he could find on the pod. It had minimal navigational controls but had a set of repulsors that would kick in when the craft was within a mile of the ground. Additionally, the small craft could also take a hard landing with minimal damage. Considering the other option was to burn in the atmosphere, Jas liked the limitations on the escape pod much better. He continued to move his hands around the controls, making sure the escape pod's engines were primed and ready.

Feeling a nagging moment of guilt for ignoring the young woman, Jas spared a moment to look at the princess. He saw that she had managed to get herself upright again, and as her eyes came to his visor he was surprised to see that she did not hold any contempt towards him for leaving her on the floor. Instead, there was a look of genuine hope in her blue irises. She had absolute confidence in Jas that he was going to hold true to his words about keeping her safe. It left him strangely uncomfortable, especially when he wasn't so certain himself that they were going to survive.

She spoke softly. "I don't even know…"

"Talk about nice and cozy," Dusty said as he and the others suddenly appeared. They were rushing to get into the pod, and Mouse closed the hatch behind them.

Gath took the pilot's seat and Dusty claimed the one next to it. Jas was forced between the two. Since Mouse was the last one to enter, he found himself lodged near the corner with the princess.

Another bang outside the pod foretold the fraction of time they had left to eject. Gath decided not to push fate and opted to push the buttons on the control panel instead. There was a sound like an explosion as the pod cleared from the burning wreckage of the _Fatal Bliss_.

In the tight proximity of the escape pod, Mouse realized that he had been forced closer to the princess than he felt comfortable ever being. However, curiosity got the better of him, and he felt his eyes scan over the female human form. Looking at the young woman, he didn't understand why there was such a fuss about her. Then again, Mouse chose to never understand politics anyway. In his opinion, if the Seps felt that kidnapping a plain-looking and disheveled woman would get them more control over the galaxy, then they were more cowardly than he first thought. And, if that was the case, he was more than happy to take out every last battle droid and every last being who was part of that Separatist alliance.

The small pod shook and shuddered as it battled against the natural turbulence that came from atmospheric winds.

Mouse craned his neck toward the small canopy and saw that the sky had changed from the darkness of space and the frosty-red of the atmosphere into a darkened landscape that was shadowed in black and gray, indicating that night was still taking place on the moon.

Another wave of turbulence struck the craft, and Mouse suddenly spun back to the princess as she fell into him. He grasped her hands reluctantly and helped her straighten.

Mouse wasn't exactly sure what to tell her. "Um, Ma'am…"

Gath didn't bother to turn around as he interrupted his brother's uncertain voice to give the princess instructions. He had to make sure he stopped Mouse before he said something that might insult her. "Get down, bring your legs to your chest, and tuck your head in. I can't make this ride any smoother."

Switching to private, Gath then told Mouse, "Don't let her get too bumped around. Stabilize her and cover her if this landing goes sour."

Jas turned to watch that the princess did as instructed. Then, he saw Mouse kneel on the floor before her, prepared to do what he had to so that she would remain secure. Jas could tell by Mouse's hesitancy that he didn't like doing this at all, and Jas felt a brief but uncharacteristic flash of jealously. Then, he pushed the strange emotion away. He had no reason to be envious of his brother, especially not when Mouse was doing something that he obviously didn't enjoy.

"Twenty seconds, and we'll know if our short lives are even more short-changed," Dusty offered.

"Still never got to read that novel," Mouse mumbled.

"Well at least we'll be together in the end," Gath said, with that sarcastic air of optimism he occasionally shared.

Jas kept his eyes on the princess, realizing that she was listening to a conversation that was probably bringing her further to the brink of frightened insanity. He and his brothers could deal with their own mortality, but she probably never thought about death or even had it be a consideration in her life.

The shaking and turbulence slowed down, and with a gentle bump, the repulsors had kicked in. The commandos all brought their attention to the canopy again, only to see the darkness of night greet them.

After a few moments, they heard a strange banging and scraping sound against the pod.

"Oh, no, no, no. Come on! No," Dusty complained when he realized that the sound was from a forest of treetops after a number of them grated loudly against the small window. "There has to be a perfectly good meadow around here somewhere."

"Hang on," Gath instructed. He tried to get some kind of control on the pod and redirect it, but the few buttons on the panel didn't offer much directional guidance. He knew he had to let the pod land blindly.

"Can you find us any kind of break in the forestry?" Dusty asked.

"Doing what I can," Gath responded as the pod's repulsors suddenly shut down.

Dusty laughed as though he was going to lose his mind. "Of course, this damn thing is out of fuel. Hazar was such a _di'kut_."

The free fall only lasted a couple brief seconds, but everyone had been forced to cling to whatever they could to keep from losing their balance and being knocked around. Mouse locked his arms around the princess, pinning her into the corner with his body. He didn't move while the pod struck the ground, sliding on momentum to a horrible-sounding halt. Trees fell down around the craft causing banging and crashing outside the hull.

After a few moments, it had grown eerily quiet. The canopy showed nothing but darkness and the silhouette of what looked like a tree full of leaves.

Gath quickly turned around in the seat. He looked to Mouse and saw he was still kneeling before the curled up princess, following his directives to keep her secure.

"How is she?" Gath asked.

Mouse pulled back and tapped her shoulder gently. "Um, Ma'am? You can get up now."

She brought her head up, and her eyes glanced amongst the four blue visors. Her breathing was hurried, but she was obviously grateful that they made it to the ground in one piece.

"She's fine," Mouse said, quickly getting off the floor and opening the hatch to the pod. He set his visor to night vision and brought his Deece around. He held the weapon in a ready position as he stepped out of the craft. He decided to do a preliminary sweep of the area and get out of the confined pod. There were four too many people in it for his liking.

Dusty followed Mouse out of the pod, and Gath stood from the seat bringing his attention to the princess. He reached out his hand to help her to her feet. "Ma'am, give them a moment to secure the area."

She nodded her head silently and brought her hand to her side when Gath released his hold. Her eyes turned toward Jas as though trying to figure out if he was the same soldier who had been with her from the start. Jas wanted to give her some kind of reassurance that he hadn't left her, but he didn't know what to say. He hadn't even told her his name.

Dusty's voice came across the helmet communications, and it gave Jas the excuse he needed to break away from her. "_All clear. Nothing around here but trees, animals, and insects_."

Gath stepped forward, heading out of the pod with Jas and the princess following behind him. Gath and Jas flicked on the spot lamps attached to their _buy'ce_ to get a visual of what was actually around them, instead of just looking with the night vision. All they could see was a multitude of trees from different species and varying shades of earth tones. The shrubbery was mostly green, with many of the bushes spotted in colors that ranged in hues of orange and red. The forest floor was brown from dirt, dying leaves, and fallen branches, but the brown was broken up with spots of green wherever low-lying plants were striving.

Turning off the lamps, Gath looked up at the night sky and was disappointed that there wasn't even a pale glow in the distance. He had thought for certain that dawn should be preparing to break soon. He wanted to see some kind of sign to give them hope that their mission wasn't another wasted attempt of their skills. He didn't like it when Mouse referred to them as the "Reject Squad," but Gath also knew that he was right more often than not about it.

Pulling out the long-range comlink that was stored away in his belt pouch, Gath opened it and waited for it to go through the initializing sequence. The device had been programmed to communicate only with their command ship, _Integrity_. It was a safeguard that if the comlink was found by the enemy, it would not be able to provide too much information about Crimson and their contacts. Right now, _Integrity_ was stationed in the orbit of the nearby planet Korriban, doing a routine patrol of the trade routes in that sector. All Gath wanted was for _Integrity_ to relay a message that they had completed the mission and that they required transport to bring the princess back to her home.

"Crimson Squad to _Integrity_, do you read? Codephrase: Dancing Nerf-pup."

There was a pause and some static. Gath knew it was not entirely uncommon to have intermittent communications. They were, after all, trying to raise their superiors on a warship that was in a neighboring system but was still hundreds of light-years away. Calmly speaking into the device, Gath tried again. "Crimson to _Integrity_, I repeat. Do you copy? Codephrase: Dancing Nerf-pup."

Static erupted on the small comlink and then the broken image of an admiral on a warship crackled in and out. His blue glowing holo waved and faded for a moment.

"Integrity_, here. Crimson, we copy but_…"

The sound of a distant explosion cut off the admiral's words, and the man brought his hands before him as though shielding himself from something.

"Sir?" Gath asked. "Do you copy?"

The admiral had a look of concern on his face as his arms came back to his sides.

"_We have pressing matters, Crimson_."

"Sir, extraction requested," Gath said quickly. "Moon III of Tochin."

Another explosion shook the holo, and the admiral was visibly thrown against one of the control boards.

"_Shields down! Heavy causalities_," the voice of a clone soldier cut in.

"Sir?" Gath asked again, knowing that something was happening to his distant brothers, and he didn't like being unable to assist. "What's happening?"

Suddenly, the holo filled with pained screams before going dead.

"What the _haran_ happened?" Dusty asked. "Try to raise them again."

Gath put the transmitter away, and his voice was sober as though lost in thought. "I can't. _Integrity_ was just destroyed."

"Fierfek," Mouse said solemnly. "Kriffin' Seps."

"Can't you call another ship?" Dusty demanded. "We have to get out there and do something."

Gath brought his visor up quickly to his brother. "There is no other ship, _ner vod_. You know that our comlink was only allowed to contact _Integrity_, and even if there is another ship in the area, they're too busy with that Sep attack.

"_Vode an_," Jas said softly. His simple words broke the tension amongst them and reminded them that they were missing the larger picture of what just happened.

Dusty took a heavy breath, as he knew Jas was right. They just lost brothers. It didn't matter if they were infantry, pilots, or commandos. They were all from the same place, and for the most part, raised in the _Mando_ way. They would not get left behind, at least not mentally.

"_Vode an_," Dusty repeated, his words sounding more like a vow than a remembrance.

Mouse turned to Gath. He would mourn privately, like he always did, when the time to do so didn't require them to be worrying about mission orders.

"Options, Gath. Spill it," Mouse said, his voice calm but direct.

Gath looked to his brothers and then behind him to the princess who had heard everything. Her blue eyes looked to them, and the hope she had placed there earlier seemed to have faded and dulled.

"An entire ship?" she asked sadly. "Why would they kill so many?"

"Ma'am," Jas answered as he stepped closer, "It is war."

Her arms folded around her, and she stared into nothing even though her eyes remained on Jas' visor. She looked like she was lost in a memory, something that had taken hold of her and grabbed her attention for a moment.

Gath could see that the princess was not accustomed to war or the cruelties of it, and he knew that the mission objective of getting her home was still their priority until other orders came across. Keeping her safe now would depend on what they encountered in the forests and amongst the life of Tochin III. He knew that the mission wasn't going to be as easy as they originally had hoped or thought.

Looking up to the sky for a moment, Gath knew that they didn't know exactly where they were in relations to her palace, and it was going to take some time to get a positional marker on their proximity. In the meantime, they had a long trek ahead of them, and above all, they had to keep her as safe as possible. Gath feared that a lot could happen in such an amount of time, and he hoped that when the daylight came, they would discover that they weren't far from her home.

"We're on our own," Gath explained tiredly. "We can't depend on anyone who finds _Fatal Bliss_ to know where to look for us. It probably burned up into a million pieces, and we could very well be a hundred miles or more away from the crash site of the ship. I doubt that anyone knows there was an escape pod, and it's likely that they won't even know to come looking for us."

Jas did not move his visor from the princess, and as Gath spoke, he saw that her eyes had returned back to the present. She kept her gaze on him as though he could try to come up with some other kind of answer.

"I guess we'll find out if she can handle hiking," Dusty said as he took off his _buy'ce_ to scratch the itch that had been in his hairline for the past few minutes. He looked over the princess, doubtfully thinking she would survive walking for any length of time since he considered her dress a hindrance. He knew that it was made to be a pretty decoration to put over a woman, and he couldn't see any functionality of it that would give the princess any way to endure on a forested landscape. He thought maybe this mission would have its moment of comedic relief after all.

"We need to get some rest and wait for the daylight," Gath instructed gently. "Let the young lady take a nap in the escape pod. Jas and Mouse can rest first. Dusty and I will inventory our kits and supplies. After daylight breaks, we'll purge the ship of any additional supplies we can find."

A loud gasp sounded from the princess, and the commandos turned to her wondering what had shocked her. She stood with her eyes fixed on Dusty, and her trembling hand covered her mouth as she shook her head.

"I guess she didn't think we were human," Dusty said shrugging off her reaction. He had seen some strange reactions from civvies before. It was pretty common that the civvies were startled as soon as they realized that there truly were human men under the armor. Taking her reaction in his usual stride, Dusty continued to take his kit off his back and search for his water.

Mouse's voice was a quick response in a matter-of-fact tone. "No, she just realized how ugly you were."

"Your problem is that you spend so much time away from us that you forgot what we really look like," Dusty retorted.

"Maybe, but I still had enough sense to keep my bucket on," Mouse shot back.

"He…I saw…You," the young woman breathed, unable to put together a full sentence. The princess then fell to the ground, and the trembling that started in her hands now moved over her entire body. Her eyes suddenly clouded over, lost again in some memory none of them could see. She started scrabbling backwards on the ground as though trying to find some place to hide within.

"Ma'am?" Jas asked as he looked between Dusty and the princess. "What's wrong?"

In the faded brightness of night, the commandos saw a thin line on her cheeks that glistened as she moved. Her breath came in a choked sob, and she suddenly became unresponsive while whatever memory had been left upon her had transported her back to some moment in her past. None of them seemed certain of exactly how to approach her or what to say, but they all knew that failure of the mission was not an option. No one told them that a simple rescue and extract would become so complicated. It was times like this that they wished they could have been given the privilege of having a Jedi assigned to them. At the very least, a Jedi would just wave his or her fingers and problems like a frightened young woman would simply go away. Then, Crimson could concentrate on the things that made sense and were concrete, like combat skills and stopping an enemy before the enemy even knew what hit them. Comforting a young woman was not part of their training program, and the thought of it frightened them in a way that suddenly made live fire exercises soothing in comparison.

Gath sighed quietly. This was going to be a long couple hours until dawn. He just knew it.


	6. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes_: Once more, I am very grateful to everyone who is taking the time to read, and especially review. I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 5**

_Hearts see what blinds the eyes.  
_Old Tochinite proverb, generally given as advice prior to an arranged marriage

**Tochin Moon III  
784 Days ABG**

_The blackness of a hood came over Arlesse's face, threatening to suffocate her. She tried to get her hands to her head and remove the smothering material, but the paralyzing pain of a stun blast tore into her side, and she fell helplessly against the grip of unfamiliar hands._

_A jolt in her neck that felt of pure agony caused her to awaken from her unconsciousness, and she released a tortured scream, forcing her to open her eyes. Trying to see through the remnants of a painful haze, she lifted her head off the cold, steel floor and saw there was a droid before her. Arlesse had no idea how much time had passed between the stun blast that had rendered her unconscious and the pain that had awakened her. She just knew that she was no longer in familiar and comfortable territory._

_Blinking hard, her eyes focused on the droid. It was thinner than a standard R2 unit, only about half the width of the R2 series. It stood about three feet tall, and was painted black with accents in deep red as though it was made to look like some incarnation from one of the droid hells._

_Arlesse would have expected to see mechanical tools or other helpful devices protrude from this droid; however, this small, mechanical monster didn't wield anything that was remotely friendly. Instead of tools like a normal R2 unit would use, this one had been modified with vibroknives, electrical probes, a small burning laser, and a syringe that was filled with a light gray liquid._

_As Arlesse's eyes focused more clearly, she saw that one of the electrical probes was still aimed at her, threatening to release its painful shock again._

_Arlesse tried to back from the droid, to distance herself from that weapon of agony, but the cold, hard surface of a metal wall blocked her. She glanced around the room and found it was no greater than a small bedroom and saw that there were no windows or decorations. It was simply a four-walled metal room. There was barely enough space for a bed, but no such luxury was supplied._

_Suddenly, a middle-aged man entered the small room. His head and the rest of him were covered in black wrappings to conceal the true size of his body mass. A burn scar crossed his face from his left temple to the center of his chin, seeming to split his lower lip in half. Arlesse also noticed that his nose sat crookedly, and she could only guess that it was a sign that it had been broken numerous times. She felt herself flinch as she looked to his ice-green irises. They were set deep in his sockets, and there was no trace of kindness to be found in them._

_Arlesse forced her eyes away from those cold, jaded eyes and found herself instead looking at the pair of white wrist gauntlets that he wore over the black wrappings on his arms. The stark contrast of the white on black seemed odd on him, and it gave the impression that he was some evil, mummified warrior out of a horror holovid._

_"Easy, TaK," the wrapped man said, putting a hand gently onto the droid's top. "They didn't give us the okay yet to do any damage."_

_The droid whirred a motor in some kind of reply, and it sounded like a rabid rancor that was angry for being denied its meal, but it lowered its devices anyway._

_The man gave his attention now to his prey. "I've been paid to detain you, young princess," he explained. "I'll only harm you if you try to escape, and then I'll sic TaK – otherwise known as Torture and Kill – on you if you try anything you know you're not supposed to do."_

_Arlesse noticed that his voice was soft-spoken despite his terrorizing appearance, but that didn't give her any reassurance. Instead, it frightened her even more. She didn't trust him, no matter how kind he might try to act. He made it very clear that he was just waiting for permission to harm her, and that he took great care to see his victims helpless._

_"What do you want?" Arlesse asked, unable to hide the fear in her voice. She knew it wouldn't take much to get her to break down and cry. Unlike her cousin, Duchess Janelle Napith, Arlesse had none of the fortitude and attitude that a woman in her high-ranked position should be capable of exuding. Arlesse was grateful that her father allowed her the preference of spending her days away from the politics of a monarchial society. She enjoyed spending her time reading through a flimsiplast novel in the gardens instead of attending the court theatrics. The court consisted mainly of middle-aged men and women arguing about territorial rights and monetary restraints anyway. Arlesse was quite pleased that Janelle had been taking the steps to become the next rightful monarch. Having to constantly and quickly find ways to deal with so many angry leaders was something Arlesse was glad to live without._

_"Right now I only get paid if I keep you unharmed," he said, breaking Arlesse from her moment of reflection. "Should they change their minds…" He let the sentence hang purposefully, allowing a dark smirk to slowly spread across his face while he patted his droid as though it was a loving pet._

_His sinister teasing caused Arlesse to visibly flinch closer to the wall from the man she presumed had to be some crazed prison escapee. She didn't know of anyone she had ever met who would want to harm her. No one seemed to even look in her direction most of the time unless her father or Janelle had specifically brought someone to her for a conversation. And, it didn't seem likely that someone would want to harm her if they didn't even know her._

_Taking a shaky breath, Arlesse felt her eyes stare at this dangerous person, afraid that if she blinked, he'd take the opportunity to do something that would scar her forever._

_"You're not that spirited, are you?" he asked. "I thought all you royal types had spunk in you."_

_Arlesse couldn't think of anything to say to that. She was never good with verbal ammunition, and it was one of the reasons why she took her father's advice and avoided the political views of the royal court. In order to compete with the issues of the monarchy, she would have needed to be quick-tongued and balanced. One-liners and comebacks were skills she never inherited from her parents or learned from her peers. Janelle, though, was a natural at that, easily sparring with words amongst the leaders of Tochin like it was normal conversation._

_Arlesse's captor laughed suddenly, breaking her from her thoughts again._

_"You're not much of a leader, are you?" he now teased, kneeling on the floor before her. "You're a very easy girl to read. Daddy makes sure you don't want for anything. You've got no fight or spunk in you, and frankly, I've seen some prettier girls in slave houses…girls twice your age."_

_Arlesse felt the sting in her eyes, and her bottom lip quivered on the brink of tears. He had no right to know so much about her without having ever met her. He had no right to insult her father for loving her and caring for her. And, least of all, she knew she wasn't pretty, as her face was more round than it was oval. Her hair was a brown that was so usual and plain in coloring, it did little to attract any attention. Her hair was spun in naturally tight spirals, and to her they always felt knotted. It seemed to take the maid forever to tame the wild hair, and it often required a lot of patience just to get the curls brushed. Arlesse also knew that her blue eyes had to look odd against her dark hair, and she never thought her irises were even an attractive shade of blue. Instead of an ocean, her eyes were grayer, like the sky on a day with a thin layer of clouds dulling the bright blue of the sky._

_Arlesse knew that her cousin had been endowed in so many ways. Janelle was a green-eyed blonde with loose curls whose heart-shaped face framed a tall, shapely body. Every man in court stared at Duchess Janelle, and her charisma attracted everyone's attention. No one thought much of Princess Arlesse, except to respect her for her position._

_"Well, you're not overweight," the man observed, bringing Arlesse's thoughts back to her situation. "You were light enough to carry without straining myself."_

_Arlesse swiped away a tear from her cheek that had slipped free, feeling the emotional pain that his insults created. She knew he was teasing her to make her upset, and his hurtful words made her vulnerable, allowing her to fall into his game._

_Reaching a hand out, he suddenly took hold of her necklace. Arlesse tried to bring her hand up to stop him, but he easily caught her wrist and gave it a painful squeeze. He twisted her arm with little effort, taking satisfaction in the way she flinched._

_"Interesting piece," the mercenary noted as he turned the pendant between his fingers. He used the tip of his gloved thumb to touch upon each of the seven points on the star-shaped locket as though looking for how to open it. However, his interest there was short-lived as his eyes dropped toward the collar of Arlesse's dress, noting how the material hugged modestly to the average-sized curvature of her chest. "Well, at least you weren't short-changed there. I've seen less fortunate."_

_It took Arlesse a moment to realize that he wasn't talking about her necklace anymore, and he was noticing the parts of her that made her a woman. She felt another tear slip free, both from the pain in her wrist and the humility of being observed in such a way by this frightening man._

_Letting her go, the wrapped man sighed with dark thoughts while he took a long inventory of her. "Too bad I can't really see what you have to offer. There's a saying about jewels in the rough. Maybe if my employers change their minds, I could open up the pretty wrapping and really see what's inside."_

_Arlesse wiped away the tears that fell free and pulled herself closer to her body, trying to cover herself more._

_"In the meantime, I have other ways to keep occupied." He smiled with wicked intent. "My employers knew I'd get bored after a short while with not being able to do anything to you so they found me a real life clone trooper to keep me entertained. I'm slowly removing his armor one piece at a time."_

_Arlesse then understood the gauntlets and how he acquired them._

_"Want to help me dissect him?" the mercenary asked, not bothering to suppress the bloodlust in his eyes._

_Arlesse curled herself tighter into a ball and shook her head. "You're a monster."_

_"Monster?" he laughed, thoroughly amused by her innocence. "Sweetheart, you need to upgrade your language. I'm a murderous bastard."_

_As if on cue, a small door slid open and a clone trooper fell forward onto his knees, the results of having been pushed through the door. His arms were bound behind his back, and his ankles were shackled so he couldn't run. The clone's face had suffered multiple bruises and had dried blood from cuts that were trying to heal._

_Arlesse took a shuddering breath, and her voice was hoarse from the tight lump that formed there. Her tears slowly rolled down her cheeks, as she understood her captor's intentions of keeping himself occupied. "He doesn't deserve…"_

_The wrapped man touched her cheek unusually gently with the back of his gloved hand. Arlesse realized that this horrible being was offering her a twisted version of compassion before he was going to take maniacal enjoyment in harming the clone._

_"It's just a little fun, princess," the man cooed, as he interrupted her. "He's only a clone. There's millions to replace him."_

_Arlesse forced herself to scramble tighter into her corner, trying to get as far from this madman as she possibly could. She had never seen a clone before and as far as she was concerned, he was a man like any other she had ever met. It didn't matter to her if he was replicated into an army. She saw life in the soldier's dark eyes and that meant he didn't deserve to be tortured at the hands of some murderous and insane criminal._

_"Don't," she whispered to her captor, her words broken with fear, "please don't."_

_The mercenary now turned to the clone, and his voice was full of amusement. "Hear that?" he asked, slapping the trooper on his shoulder like they were old friends. "Someone in the galaxy actually has some compassion for your kind."_

_The clone looked to Arlesse, and his dark eyes seemed to be showing gratitude for her attempt to save him._

_"Be _kotyc_," he told her. "Don't lose hope yet."_

_Arlesse didn't entirely understand what he said, but the accent in his voice had grasped her attention. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before, and it had the power to settle her fears for a few seconds. For a moment, she knew she was no longer alone and that the trooper would do what he could to delay the crazy man from touching her._

_However, the moment of security suddenly passed as the mercenary's fist came across the soldier's face._

_Arlesse gasped audibly at the sound of a glove harshly smashing into facial skin and the sound of the cloned man's pained groan._

_"Scream all you want, Clone, but no talking," the madman ordered. Waving his evil droid closer, the man then smiled with satisfaction. "TaK, let's dissect."_

_The droid seemed to happily obey its master's commands and rolled itself toward the two men. Arlesse saw the torturous instruments that were hanging from the droid's compartments, and the little mechanical beast raised them toward the clone._

_The trooper tried to fight against his restraints, and Arlesse caught the sudden but quick flash of fear that passed in his irises._

_The black wrapped man took hold of one of the shoulder plates and removed it from the clone. The droid turned on the vibroblade, and the quiet hum of it echoed loudly in the small chamber. Arlesse watched in horror as the vibroblade cut into the soldier's shoulder. He struggled against his primal instinct to scream at the pain he tried to endure. Arlesse could only uselessly close her eyes, cover her ears, and release the tears she could no longer hold within her._

Crimson Squad watched with uncertainty as the princess now sobbed heavily. Her body shook with the strength from the crying and the emotional explosion that had overtaken her. Her weeping sounded like she was in pain, her breath gasping. She appeared to show no signs of letting up, and whatever was going on in her mind was not loosening its grasp on her.

Jas knelt before her, and his memories suddenly flashed back to one of his first live-fire training exercises when his body was not much older than that of a young child. He thought he had been prepared for it through the flash training and the practice exercises, but nothing could prepare him for the shock of live-fire combat. When he let his memories wander too far away, he could still hear the sound of bombs, see the blaster fire grazing the ground where he had been moments ago, and he could still experience beneath his boots the feeling of tripping and falling over clones that hadn't survived – children's faces just like his. Jas didn't remember any of the debriefing of that exercise, but he vividly remembered that about an hour after the training was over, he had gotten violently sick, losing everything he had eaten all day. Then, his crying had started, turning into racking and uncontrollable fits of sobbing. The Kaminoans had thought he was a failure and wanted to recondition – terminate – him. Seeming to come out of nowhere, _Ba'vodu Gan_ had stepped in and took Jas in his arms, demanding that the Kaminoans allow him some time to emotionally absorb his ordeal in the training. He argued that a good soldier knew what it was to live and want to live and that they had to learn that human emotions could only be suppressed so much. Gan demanded that the Kaminoans stop treating the clones like droids and let them learn from their experiences instead of writing them off as failures.

Jas and Gan had promised to keep that breakdown a secret and that it would be used to make Jas a better soldier. Looking at the princess, Jas knew what she was undergoing as such a shock can onset at any time after an emotional ordeal. Crimson would be naïve to think that a girl who was raised in a safe sanctuary would be able to go about the rest of this mission unaffected by a kidnapping. She was bound to crack at some point, and it was probably better now, shortly after her rescue than later when they could be caught in the midst of defending against a wild beast or in a firefight where they would be forced to leave her to her demons while they fought.

Gath took a calm breath. "She's in shock and trying to process too much at once. It's overloading her."

"So how do you fix it?" Dusty asked.

Mouse quickly knelt onto the ground by Jas. Without thinking about it, he just opened his hand and slapped it across her cheek. The loud strike of his glove against her skin seemed to echo through the forest, and it was worse than releasing a thermal detonator in the silence, waking small animals that suddenly began skittering in a panic.

Dusty couldn't help himself and laughed with genuine humor. "I could have done that, _ner vod_!"

Jas didn't see humor in Mouse's actions, and he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. During Jas' ordeal years ago, Gan had simply held Jas strongly, doing nothing more than offering calm reassurances.

Mouse's strike on the princess, however, seemed to be enough of a rouse that it brought her back from her mental nightmare. She quickly looked up, and her cheeks were soaked from her crying, but her eyes had cleared. She touched a hand to the place where the commando had slapped her as though she could feel the residual sting.

"Ma'am?" Jas asked. "Are you okay?"

"There was no peace in his eyes," she whispered. Then, her eyes came up to the visor of the soldier before her. Her blue eyes were sad, broken. "He didn't deserve it. It was immoral."

"Hazar?" Jas asked, "The man who captured you?"

Arlesse used her sleeve to brush away the dampness on her face. Taking a few deep breaths, the touch of that murderous mercenary's hands began to subside and the coldness of his eyes began to fade from her consciousness. She knew he would haunt her for a long time, and it frightened her to think that he had managed to scar her so deeply without even harming her.

"No," she said softly. Then, she looked to Dusty. "Him."

Dusty stopped suddenly from pulling open his kit and turned to the frightened girl on the ground. He didn't understand at all what connection she had made with him, and it made him extremely uncomfortable. Hiding his discomfort, Dusty aimed his words at Mouse. "Looks like you hit her too hard, _ner vod_."

Arlesse suddenly shook her head as though trying to understand something, but there was a piece missing. Her eyes passed over the three commandos and their helmets, her forehead creasing with thought. After a few moments, she returned her gaze to the soldier with no helmet. She caught his eyes and realized that he wasn't the same soldier who had been tortured by her captor. There was something in his eyes that made him different, even though he looked the same at first glance.

"Buckets off," Gath gently instructed. He realized that something about Dusty had sparked a memory for her, and he wondered if it had something to do with being in Hazar's captivity. The way she was studying Dusty also led Gath to believe she had encountered a clone before. "Let her see us."

After a couple seconds, a series of soft hisses broke the quiet darkness. The rest of Crimson Squad had unlocked their helmets and pulled them from their heads.

Arlesse took a deep breath at the four similar faces that looked to her. They all had dark hair and dark eyes with strength that exuded from them. The way their eyes passed over her, however, told her they were four different men. There was a vulnerability they showed from being unmasked that they made sure to keep safely hidden beneath their armor.

Taking a moment she looked to each of their eyes, trying to remember exactly how the soldier who was imprisoned with her had pronounced the words he said to her. She thought about it carefully for a moment before speaking. She didn't want to mispronounce the phrases and possibly insult the soldiers who were with her now.

"He told me to stay ko…" she paused, fighting with an accent she wasn't confident she could replicate. "Ko…teesh…"

"What?" Dusty asked, unable to hide his shock. "You met someone who spoke _Mando'a_?"

Arlesse felt suddenly confused and overwhelmed. She didn't know what _Mando'a_ was. Instead, she shook her head trying to say the word again, thinking she may have mispronounced it. "He said ko-teesh. I didn't know what it meant."

Gath decided the word itself wasn't important. They needed to know who would use such a word and say it to her. He kept his voice calm and even. "Who told you to stay _kotyc_?"

Arlesse took a breath, her eyes lost in the similarities of the men before her and the one from the prison cell. "He was a man like you but with white armor…"

"Fierfek!" Jas said softly, but angrily. The trooper might have still been on that ship somewhere, and they didn't try to find him. His guilt suddenly overwhelmed him. "I saw clone trooper armor in the galley, just before Hazar's underling shot at me. In the confusion of everything, I never tried to find him."

"A clone trooper?" Gath asked to the princess, hoping to fill in some of the blanks and make better sense of her emotional confusion.

Arlesse nodded. "Yes, a clone trooper. The man who kidnapped me, the one you called Hazar, said the Separatists gave him the trooper to keep him busy so that he wouldn't touch me."

"Kriffing_ shabuir_," Dusty grumbled angrily.

"_Kotyc_," Jas explained as he put his _buy'ce_ on the ground beside him and tried to get back on track with something relevant, "means strong."

Arlesse breathed softly, looking at the soldier kneeling before her. "He told me to stay…ko-teesh."

Jas nodded. "The clone trooper you saw, he was trying to tell you to be strong."

"Do you know what happened to him?" Gath pressed carefully.

Arlesse swallowed hard at the lump that formed in her throat again as she thought about the cloned man and his horrible fate. She felt a tear fall free, and as she looked to these four men the haunting similarity made her shudder. "He tried not to scream..."

"What happened to him?" Dusty asked, the anger moving into his voice.

The princess shook her head and felt her hands shaking again. Then, she felt a gentle but strong grasp on her hands, encouraging her to not back down but to face her frightening ordeal.

Jas didn't think about reaching out to touch her. It just seemed like the right thing to do, and he was sure that Gan would have done the same thing had he been here with them.

Arlesse looked to the armored man who held her hands in his steady grasp. Something in his touch and mannerisms made her realize that he was the same one who stayed with her in the prison cell. He was the one who found the escape pod and brought her with him, allowing her to hold onto him because she was afraid that if she let go, she would return to her nightmare. He had said earlier that he was going to keep her safe, and she believed him. She had no reason now to give up believing that he was going to keep her safe again.

"Stay _kotyc,_" Jas told her softly.

Arlesse heard the similarities in the voices between the soldier before her and the trooper she knew briefly on the mercenary's ship. However, this soldier's accent was stronger and more commanding of that accent. His deep inflection of the dead clone trooper's words was beautiful and melodic. The way this soldier said those words brought her back from the darkness of the horrific memories that continued to run through her thoughts.

"Hazar killed him," she whispered as she felt like she couldn't look away from the man who was holding her. He was a lifeline to her safety, and he was the net that would catch her if she started to fall back into the nightmare of the clone's torture. She didn't know this man before her, but she knew she trusted him. His touch revealed protection and honor, and he silently encouraged her to tell them what happened to one of their comrades.

Arlesse swallowed hard, needing to tell them about what she witnessed, if for no other reason than they had the right to know. She never looked away from the soldier before her, feeling like she needed to confess to him. "Hazar tortured the trooper and never stopped. He was entertained with it, laughing at me for being frightened and upset." She trembled once more, putting into words what she had observed. "Hazar said he was going to dissect the cloned soldier, and he did."

"_Haar'chak_!" Dusty shouted. "Had I known that, I wouldn't have simply shot the _shabuir_."

Taking a rattling breath, Arlesse let her fingers curl tighter around the soldier's strong hands, fearing that if she loosened her grasp the slightest bit, she would return to that prison cell and start living the nightmare again. As guilt washed over her, she focused her eyes on his, apologizing personally to him. "I'm sorry. I know I should have tried to do something…"

"No," Gath said gently but with strength. He understood now that the princess was not physically harmed, but Hazar had done well to hurt her emotionally. "You're not a soldier and not trained. That clone trooper will be missed, but he died doing what he was supposed to. He was doing his duty to keep you safe."

Arlesse brought her eyes to the soldier who had offered her absolution for her failure. "Did he have any way to be remembered?" she asked.

"He did," Gath answered. "He had a name, just like we all do."

"You're mourning for him," Mouse breathed, unable to hide his surprise. "_Aruetiise_ don't mourn for us."

Arlesse looked to the commando who had been quiet up until now. Her words were a sad whisper. "I never thanked him."

Mouse narrowed his focus to only the princess and himself, as though assessing her. His dark eyes bore into her blue irises noting that that her intentions were well meant and not a load of _osik_. "You didn't have to, Ma'am. He saw it."

Then, Mouse quickly rose from the ground and started to put his _buy'ce_ back in place. Before he got it over his head, he glanced at her. "I'm Mouse."

Silently now, the helmet was returned and sealed in place. He had said his peace, and he was ready to continue with the mission. He was not designed to deal with a frightened young woman, and he would rather leave his brothers to that task. He knew that the princess was going to be a challenge to them, and he hated challenges like this. He wished the mission had been a simple assassination like last time. That was something he could comprehend.

Dusty settled himself on the ground now and pulled out the water from his kit, taking a long sip. After a moment, he raised the bottle as though offering a toast. "I'm Dusty."

He then pointed the bottle toward one of the soldiers. "That's Gath."

"And, the _barve_ you're holding hostage," Dusty continued, "That's Jas."

Arlesse brought her eyes to the soldier before her and felt her cheeks heat up in an unusual warmth as she was suddenly embarrassed but not understanding why. She was grateful that the darkness hid her flushed face. She had never been compared to being a hostage taker in her life, and she wasn't entirely sure what to make of the comment.

Jas had begun to doubt if he would ever have free will of his hands again. This was the second time she had taken hold of him, and he wondered if maybe his display of benevolence to earn her trust had backfired on him. He gently pulled his hands free, confused between relief that she let him go and disappointment that she hadn't held on tighter.

"Ma'am," Dusty said, "I urge you to take a drink. We don't need you dehydrating on us."

Arlesse nodded weakly and grasped the offered bottle. She took a long swallow, finishing off the last quarter of the bottle that Dusty had given her, and she returned it to him.

"I'm sorry, I drank it all," she told him.

"That's fine."

Rubbing her eyes, Arlesse offered a small, sad smile. Then, she watched Jas as he reached over to his helmet and stood up. After a moment, she glanced toward the escape pod and covered her mouth, yawning heavily. "Can I stay out here with all of you? I don't want to be alone."

Gath nodded, aware that there was quite some time left until dawn. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the fact that they only had the girl in their possession for a short time and she already had them spinning in ways none of them were prepared for. Hoping once again that her home was closer than they imagined, Gath told her, "I'll find something for you to sleep on."


	7. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes_: Once more, I am very grateful to everyone who is taking the time to read, and especially review. I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 6**

_It's a shame that Jango wasn't able to survive to see his legacy live on. The admirable _barve_ always had trouble with women. Seems that someone has a twisted sense of humor because his clone offspring are getting more female action than he ever did._  
Walon Vau's thoughts on Clones having relationships with women

**Tochin Moon III  
784 Days ABG**

Daylight had finally broken over the horizon about forty-five minutes ago, and it made the land seem to take on a life of its own. The sun was obscured for the most part by the thickness of the forest, but its beams found spaces between the shrubberies to shine through. The dew that had settled upon the foliage sparkled, creating prisms over the organic life that surrounded Crimson Squad and their mission objective, Princess Arlesse.

Studying the forest around him, Gath was reminded of a mission a couple months ago in which he had caught a scene from a fantasy holofilm he had stumbled across while moving through a private residence. From what he could recall of the film, it was a silly little story about tiny, colorfully winged woodland humanoids and their plight to remain secret. The holofilm was yet another piece of multimedia drivel that was created solely for the purpose of entertaining younglings.

Still, as Gath thought about it, he realized that there was enough color and movement in the film to catch his attention and allow him the privilege to look briefly into the world of civilian life. However, that moment in time had been very short lived as their target had been spotted again, and they had to remain on the move to get him. It was one of their earlier missions and one of their easier missions because they were ordered to take out the Separatist terrorist by any means necessary.

As the sun illuminated the forest, Gath pushed away the memories of his not-so-distant past and found himself surprised by the amount of color that actually filled the landscape around him. Last night, the colors had been muted with no sign of the vivid life that seemed to be overloading and exploding in the forest now. The trees and shrubbery alone ranged in all shades of green from a yellow-tinted green to a dark green that was nearly black in its richness.

Floral plants thrived in the gaps between the trees, leaning toward the sunlight as though they were little aliens reaching upward for something in the sky. The petals were in a multitude of colors: bright red, pale blue, deep orange, and scores more that Gath couldn't bother trying to identify. Some of the shrubbery even had berries on them. He saw one plant was covered with dark violet – almost black – clustered berries, and another one was full of tiny yellow bead-like fruit. He had already checked the plants against the data in his HUD and saw that their products were poisonous to humans. He decided not to trust any of the fruit they came across until they consulted their databanks first. He was not willing to make an amateurish mistake that could result in any of them becoming sick or dying due to laziness on his part for not properly cataloguing the plant life early on in the mission.

Gath now glanced behind him at the escape pod that had landed relatively intact. There was virtually no damage to the craft, but it had served its purpose and had done its job well. Looking at the small ship in the daylight, Gath was actually surprised by the incredibly tiny size of it. It almost seemed impossible that they fit five people in the small, barrel-like craft. When he went in it earlier to find more supplies, the tiny escape pod actually felt claustrophobic. He had been amazed by how the rush of adrenaline and wanting to survive the chaos amidst them had distorted his earlier perceptions.

Rubbing at the nagging remnants of his exhaustion, Gath regretted that he did not take the extra half-hour of rest that Jas had offered to him earlier. He could have used it, if for nothing else but to get the annoying itch of overtiredness out of his eyes. Unfortunately, he knew it was too late now to take that rest. He would just have to wait it out until the next opportunity came up for sleep. Gath doubted they were going to find civilization any time soon. He figured at least a day or so worth of travel was ahead of them, and he hoped it wouldn't be more than that. Even though they had all survived the critical escape from Moon II, there was no guarantee that the journey that lie ahead of them would be without incident.

A heavy, soft sigh broke Gath from his thoughts and he turned to the young princess. She was lying on the ground atop a dark, gray blanket with a pale-colored brown one over her to keep her warm in the cool spring morning. She was resting on her side, instinctively curling herself into a ball to conserve her body heat. Gath noted that her forehead was creased as though lost in some dream and her eyes moved beneath her closed eyelids. For a moment, Gath wondered if she was dreaming of home or if she was living through her torment again in the form of a nightmare. Either way, he felt pity for the poor girl for having to endure the cruel side of war. He doubted she would ever have been able to hold her own on the frontlines, and he was grateful that they didn't have to take her through the brutalities of that kind of war zone. He did wonder, however, about the possibility that if she had been raised differently and wasn't so sheltered if she could have had the potential to be a formidable ally. Shaking his head silently, he pushed the thought away. That was an alternate future that was not to ever be known.

Thinking about the war, Gath felt his remorse surface once again for the distant brother who was also a prisoner of Hazar and who they would never be able to officially identify. Hazar, being the _di'kut_ he was, should consider himself lucky to be dead. If not, Gath would have made it his personal vendetta to find him and slowly dissect him one limb at a time. Of course, from the emotional outburst that Crimson had exhibited earlier in the night after learning of the trooper's fate, Gath knew that he would not have been alone in such a quest for vengeance.

"The weakened tranquilizer I slipped her should be wearing off soon," Dusty commented as he returned after a short walk away from camp to "study the plants and flowers closely," as he put it.

Watching Dusty settle onto the ground beside him, Gath opted not to get into the technicalities of what he meant since he had handled the same requirements earlier in the morning. Shaking his head in slight amazement, he looked to his brother. "That was sneaky and clever of you, _ner vod_, tricking her into taking that drink of water you offered her. You're lucky she didn't turn you down."

That made Dusty laugh, and he ran his fingers through the thickening mop of dark hair that covered his skull. He knew he should have gotten his hair cut before they deployed, but with their last two missions being so simple, he figured they were on a roll. He thought one easy recovery and extraction would earn him a day to take care of personal things like his hair. He hoped this mission wouldn't really last more than a couple days, though. Any longer, and his _buy'ce_ won't want to sit properly on top of his thick mop. Trying to ignore the potential annoyance of his hair, Dusty felt his familiar smirk on his face as he continued his conversation with his brother.

"Well, if she didn't take the water from me, I would have recruited Jas next to offer it."

Gath rubbed his face at the thought, again trying to ignore his fatigue. He made it a point that he was going to over-extend his leadership duties and order his brothers to give him an extra hour or more of rest later tonight. Rubbing the back of his neck now, Gath thought about what Dusty said and how the princess seemed to respond a little more comfortably to Jas. He thought that maybe it was nothing and maybe it was everything, but Gath decided that as long as she was not panicking over her situation and was able to be calmed by at least one of them, it was not something to worry about right now.

"You said you only gave her a partial dose," Gath reiterated. "She's gotten a good three hours sleep by now, and I doubt she would have taken a rest without the help. She was pretty emotionally broken."

Dusty felt his hands clench into fists. "I really wish I didn't just make a clean shot on Hazar. He deserved to be gutted alive."

Gath smiled now. "I was just thinking the same thing, but that's not where we need to be anymore. Our unnamed brother has joined the _Manda_, as _Ba'vodu Gan_ would say, and as long as we remember him in some way, he's never truly forgotten."

"_Vode an_, right?"

Nodding, Gath acknowledged, "_Vode an_."

Shifting gears, Dusty jerked a thumb toward Mouse and Jas. "What about those two?"

The brothers that Dusty indicated slept sitting up against a downed tree, buckets on, Deeces crossed over their chests, and fingers within instant access to the triggers. Dusty could suddenly remember about six training exercises they endured together that had required them to sleep in such positions, and he hated it. Dusty remembered complaining about how his personal comforts were ignored, and he hated how his brothers were unfazed by their predicament. As soon as Mouse dared to call him a pathetic little Ewok cub, Dusty had caught his jaw squarely with his fist. For their outburst, they had spent three days in special confinement for physically fighting and disrupting a training exercise.

Gan had nearly killed them himself when he found out about another of Crimson's disobediences. Instead of harming them, though, he sat down with them and made no attempt to hide his disappointment. His words had been sad and grief-stricken. He told Crimson that he never had the opportunity to find the right woman and have any family of his own. He finally admitted to them that he wanted them to be his nephews, the children he always imagined his sister-in-law would have one day. Then he told them how his sister-in-law, who was not of the Mandalorian blood, had abandoned the _Mando_ culture after her husband, Gan's youngest brother, was killed trying to help defend the homestead. She was six months pregnant at that time, and Gan never had the opportunity to find her or her child because he was recruited to Kamino before he could complete his search.

That conversation changed Crimson in a way no one ever thought was possible. Within the next few months their insults had become more playful and less brawl provoking. By the end of that year, they had harnessed their physical strengths and turned their fighting into proper displays of sparring. For only being eight years old chronologically, they had finally understood on a very deep level that they had disappointed the only being on Kamino who gave a damn about them. One thing, however, that not even Gan could resolve was their tendency towards finding ways around their orders or finding the loopholes in them. More often than not, they were called in for punishment after they had tweaked their orders. And every time there was no justification to penalize them because they had proven their superiors wrong.

Gath leaned back against the downed log he and Dusty were sharing and broke Dusty from his reminiscences by finally answering his question. "Once we get Jas and Mouse up, I want to send Jas on recon, check out what's ahead…."

Dusty opened his mouth to say something, but Gath cut him off. He didn't want to hear any wisecracks right now, and he was certain that Dusty had been gathering an arsenal of them with their predicament. "I don't want her to depend solely on Jas' involvement. He did well to get her trust. Now I need to assess her connection to the rest of us."

"You think she doesn't trust us?" Dusty asked.

Gath shook his head. "She knows we don't want to harm her..."

Dusty jumped in before Gath got much further and spoke factual rather than as a question. "You think Jas got too close to quickly."

Shrugging his shoulders uncertainly, Gath thought about how the princess latched onto Jas during her retelling of the trooper's ordeal. "Jas did right because of her emotional trauma, but she needs to find her own way to cope until she gets home. I'm sure there's someone in her little world that will give her psychological guidance once she's back safe."

Dusty snorted briefly, a quick display of the irony. "Leave it to us to return damaged goods. I love being the Reject Squad."

"I really wish we could lose that insulting title."

Dusty laughed then. "Come on, _ner vod_. It's a badge of honor. How many other squads have a one-hundred percent success rate despite their handicaps?"

Gath felt a small smile crack on his face at that, and he pushed Dusty gently off the log. "Get our brothers up, but let her sleep for now."

--- --- --- --- ---

Arlesse wasn't sure if the chill woke her or if the nagging ache in her neck had done so, and for a moment she couldn't imagine how she would possibly have either of those sensations when she was snuggled in her warm bed. Blinking her eyes wearily, she felt disoriented and lethargic. Focusing before her, she didn't see her bedroom but a blur of green and brown. Blinking again, she brought a hand free from the blanket that covered her and rubbed her eyes wearily.

"Did you sleep okay?" a voice asked in an accent that was vaguely familiar but so very foreign.

Arlesse knew that she wasn't supposed to be afraid of the voice, and she took her time to sit up slowly. Discomfort ran down her back at the soreness in her spine and shoulders. Her legs felt tight, and as she moved them, they made a popping sound as her joints tried to realign in their correct positions.

Feeling the cool morning chill, Arlesse took hold of the blanket and wrapped it tighter around her shoulders, shaking off a shiver.

Nodding silently, she brought her eyes towards three cloned men, the soldiers who had saved her from a ruthless mercenary named Hazar. The soldiers sat in a semi-circle around her, their weapons within easy reach. After a moment, she realized that one of them was missing.

She studied the three soldiers and was grateful they had their helmets off this time. She was trying to figure out which ones were here and which one was missing. She looked for the subtle differences she had discovered earlier. The quiet one sat furthest away from the group of them, even though he was close enough to provide assistance if necessary. She concluded that one was Mouse. Gath had a way of observing and studying everything around him as though he was always planning for the future. She picked him out as he sat against a fallen tree. The third man had eyes that sparked with a touch of playfulness, and his hair was thicker than the others. He went by Dusty, and he was taking something small from his belt pouch, but she couldn't discern exactly what it was.

Arlesse took a sudden, short breath at the concept that Jas was not amongst them, and she wondered if her actions with him last night had gotten him into some kind of trouble.

"Well, I'm not convinced you slept well," Dusty smiled as he moved toward her and offered her a small, gray cube. It was the item she had seen him pull from his belt pouch.

"She's being polite," Mouse complained from his slightly distant position. "Your snoring kept half the wildlife away."

"Hey better my snoring than your uncontrollable…"

"What is this?" Arlesse asked, deciding that asking about Jas' whereabouts just now would seem nosy and might prompt questions she'd rather not have to be concerned about answering. Looking at the small cube, Arlesse studied it with curiosity, not entirely sure what to do with it. She moved it about in her hand, and she couldn't imagine why it was given to her.

Dusty looked to her, not believing she could be serious. "It's a ration cube. Haven't you ever seen one before?"

"No," she replied feeling suddenly insignificant and stupid. How could she not know something so simple? Was she truly that sheltered that she had only seen real food, served conveniently on a table in a civilized manner? She tried to think of any instance in which she was exposed to something so trivial like a ration cube, but there had never been any moment in her life.

"Then, at least get some fluids in you," Gath said handing her a bottle of water, breaking her thoughts.

Arlesse nodded, taking the bottle from the man before her. Feeling the cloned soldiers' eyes on her, she hesitantly she put the cube in her mouth and quickly followed it with a drink of the water. The cube was dry and flavorless, and she couldn't understand how these men sustained their strength on them. It seemed unrealistic that something so small could keep them from starving to death.

"Hey, don't feel bad about it," Dusty said, as soon as he realized that she had been serious about having never seen a ration cube. He could tell by the way she nearly gagged on it that she had never eaten one before either. "A ration cube's not so bad once you get used to it. We've eaten worse."

Arlesse took another drink of the water and tried to get past her lack of experience with so many things. She took a soft breath and brought her eyes to the forest around them, listening to the birds singing up high in the trees. She looked to the bright colors and the sunlight glistening on the morning dew. The smell of wood and florals was around them like a thick mist, and she was reminded of her garden at the palace.

"Do you recognize anything, Ma'am?" Gath asked hoping she might have had an opportunity at some point in her life to pass through these particular woods.

Bringing her eyes around her with more scrutiny, she tried to see if anything looked vaguely familiar. After a moment, she shook her head sadly. "Most of Tochin III is wooded land. The people set up their towns in a perimeter around the palace, leaving much of the moon untouched." She paused and took a saddened breath. "I'm sorry I'm not much help to any of you."

"Ma'am, you have nothing to apologize for," Gath said.

"Yes, I do." Her eyes fell to her lap, and she used every ounce of strength within her to not cry as she acknowledged the shortcomings that made her the inadequate young woman she was. "You're all so brave and smart, and I'm nothing but a sheltered girl. I can't believe I didn't try to do anything to help that clone soldier, and I _know_ I should have. It breaks me every time I think about how I just sat there and cried. I've never been more scared or frightened, and all I wanted was to see my father again like some child."

She felt her shoulders slump, and she didn't fight the invisible weight that fell on them. "I've never slept in the woods before, and I've never seen a ration cube in my life. For some reason, that angers me. I hate the fact that I'm useless and the only respect anyone ever gives me is because of some title I inherited. I hate the Separatists for using me in their war. I never asked to be kidnapped, and even though I'm grateful for your help to rescue me, I can see that you'd rather be doing something more important than babysitting some helpless…"

"Wow," Dusty said, scratching the back of his head, interrupting her. "Do all females ramble on like that?"

Gath gave him a look that warned him to back off while he told him to shut up. "_Ne'johaa_. Don't be a _di'kut._"

"I'm just wondering," Dusty defended. "None of us ever really got this close to a civvie before, especially a female…"

"You're one crass _shabuir_," Mouse interrupted.

Gath's voice was now irritated. "I said n_e'johaa_, both of you_._" Turning back to the princess, he took a breath and composed his voice into an example of calm. He was surprisingly not irritated, frustrated, or angry at her minor meltdown. "Ma'am, are you done now? Do you feel better?"

Arlesse looked to him confused. She was certain that he would have yelled at her and told her not to be such a child. She had thought any respect she had from these soldiers was gone the second she opened her mouth and started complaining.

Leaning slightly forward, Gath continued, "You have every right to be angry and frightened, Ma'am. Undermining yourself, though, won't do any of us any good. You should be angry at the damn Seps who did this to you. There is nothing wrong with living a life protected and cared for. Our training sergeant once told us that not everyone is a soldier or meant to be one, and that is why there are men like us. We keep beings like you safe."

Arlesse took a silent breath, and her voice was soft, apologetic. "Then, what am I supposed to be? I'm not looking to be the next leader of Tochin. I was planning to elect my cousin to succeed to the throne in my place. And for as much as I know my father loves me, he never gave me any guidelines for my future."

"I'm sorry about that, Ma'am, and I have no advice for you," he told her. "Clones aren't given any kind of future either. We know that none of us will survive the next thirty years."

"How do you know you won't survive?" she asked. "Are your missions that dangerous?"

"Ma'am," Dusty answered. "Surviving the missions is only half the fun. If any of us make it the end of the war, we'll be old long before your father decides he wants to retire."

"Our age is accelerated," Mouse clarified. "My _shabuir_ of a brother just can't answer a question with a straight answer."

Arlesse gasped at the concept of these soldiers being forced to rush through their lives. She wondered what kind of childhood they had since they had to grow up so quickly. Did they ever run through a field on a sunny day or laugh when a flutter-wing landed on their nose? Had they ever tasted candied berries and sneaked them as a midnight treat? Had any of them ever received a present, something useless but meaningful, because that is what is done on a special occasion?

Arlesse opened her mouth, deciding which question to ask, but Gath suddenly looked up behind her and acknowledged something with a silent nod of his head.

"There's nothing out there but more woods and wildlife," Jas reported.

Arlesse turned to the man who had come up behind her, realizing that he had made no sound. She looked to him and saw his helmet neatly tucked beneath his arm and that his blaster hung close by his side. He was the perfect soldier, standing before his superior the way he had been taught.

Gath was relieved to hear that there were no potential obstacles ahead of them, and he would not have to try to come up with an alternate route once they started into the woods. The last thing they needed were any surprises when they did finally get going.

Jas now brought his eyes to the princess and nodded. She certainly didn't look any worse than she did last night, despite how she had just vented her frustrations. He decided to offer her a polite greeting, not sure of her mood just yet. He had caught the last of her ranting, and he didn't dare say anything that might erupt her ire again. "Morning, Ma'am."

Closing her eyes Arlesse took a silent breath, wondering just how much of her ungrateful complaining Jas had heard. She was certain that he would think of her as nothing but a spoiled child, and there would be no way to convince him otherwise. Nothing she had done or said so far could possibly lead him to any other impression. Opening her eyes now, she saw that Jas had settled back in with the other soldiers and that he seemed to be interested in picking up the small encampment they had made around them. She wasn't sure what to make of that and decided it was best to just forget about her outburst because he seemed to have done so.

Watching these young men, Arlesse felt the overwhelming pity in her at the thought of their shortened lives. They looked so experienced and mature that she couldn't possibly understand how they were younger than they appeared. She knew it was a minor thing she could do, and she didn't want them to be so formal around her any more. Speaking softly, she didn't hide the apology in her voice, hoping that if she brought herself to their level they might stop seeing her as some precious object and more as a person. "I have a name. Please don't feel obligated to call me 'Ma'am' all the time."

Gath, as she expected, was the first to respond. "It's against our orders to use your name, Ma'am. I'm sorry."

Arlesse sighed with anger at the thought that someone could tell them to ignore another being's name. "Why? I don't understand. What kind of order is that?"

Mouse looked to the young girl, and he understood her frustration. There were times he wondered what kind of _di'kut_ would come up with the orders that his _vode_ were expected to follow. He had to admit that not calling someone by his or her rightful name but with a generic title was another stupid order. After all, he and his brothers all had names, despite how the Kaminoans believed that only a rank and number was good enough for an army.

Eyes turning sad now, Arlesse fidgeted with the bottle of water in her hands. "I feel like I'm nobody. I…" She broke off her words and shook her head briefly as a thought occurred to her. "Everyone chooses names or is given a name so that they will not be a nobody. I overhead some of the nobles talking about the Clone Army a few weeks ago, and they called you flesh droids. They said you were men with no names, only ranks and numbers. They made you sound like uncaring beings who did nothing but wield weapons against a common enemy."

She brought her eyes to each of the four similarly looking men. "Since I met you, though, you have done everything to prove those ungrateful nobles wrong."

Gath took a heavy breath now and rubbed his face with his hands. He tried to figure out how a small, young woman could turn their world into chaos. She had just complimented them on their display of humanity, and he wasn't sure if she was even aware that she had done so.

Dusty scratched the back of his head, at a loss for words. He knew that Gath would never allow them to disobey such a trivial order. It wasn't as though their lives depended on the princess' name being spoken, and they weren't on the frontlines where a split-second decision to change the order would save lives and turn the tide of the battle. Yet, all she wanted was to be called something significant…just like Gan had done for them.

Jas studied her blue eyes and felt pity for the young princess. She had everything she had ever known torn out from under her and was depending on the skills and kindness of four complete strangers to ensure her safety. The least they should be allowed to do for her was give her back something of her identity, a link to who she truly was.

Surprisingly, though, it was Mouse who spoke. "Do you have a nickname, Ma'am?"

Her eyes rested on the quiet commando, not fully understanding why he would ask such a question, but feeling no hesitation in answering. "Lessa. My mother used to call me that when I was younger. After she died, my father only used it until I was twelve years old. He very rarely calls me that now, only in very quiet moments when no one is around."

Jas suddenly understood Mouse's logic. He looked to the young princess and in a soft voice, he said, "_Les'ika_."

Arlesse brought her eyes instantly to Jas, clearly confused. She tried to repeat what he just said, asking it as a question. "Les-ee-ka?"

Dusty laughed and looked to Mouse. "Isn't that cute? The little lady really is a little lady."

"_ika_ means little, and we just add it to the first part of your nickname," Jas explained. "The Tochin people or any lurking Separatists wouldn't know what it means, and we can still give you some kind of identity."

"_Les'ika_," Arlesse repeated, feeling her face light up at the sound of the name the soldiers had given her. "Thank you."

"Great you named her," Gath sighed, not at all liking how his brothers had taken the situation completely out from under him. Although he didn't agree with the orders, he knew that their superiors didn't want her name used because it would attach them to her in some personal way. Not using her title was just common sense so that any passersby would not be inclined to ask unnecessary questions regarding her. Still, Crimson always managed to find ways around their orders and rules, and it was one of the main reasons the Kaminoans hated them.

"Come on, Gath, loopholes are our specialty," Dusty immediately smiled.

"Reject Squad at its finest," Mouse added.

Arlesse wasn't sure about the private joke they were enjoying, but it didn't sound very encouraging. She looked amongst the cloned men hoping they were talking about another squad. Her father would be furious if he found out they didn't send in the Republic's finest.

"We got in trouble a lot when we were kids," Jas explained shyly. "Not everyone appreciated our…innovations."

Gath crossed his arms over his chest and exhaled heavily. They just blew the mission, didn't they? They personalized their objective, and they made a point to delve into their wayward status in her presence.

Arlesse nodded silently to Jas at his explanation. She thought about this squad of soldiers and how they didn't fail to rescue her and how they continually made certain to keep her safe. They had shown creativity and quite a degree of cleverness. After all, Dusty had distracted Hazar long enough to take a daring shot at him, Jas somehow knew to look for the hidden compartment on Hazar's ship, Mouse had found a way to give her back some kind of identity, and Gath had calmly handled her lack of self-confidence. She realized that she had no reason to believe they wouldn't keep her safe for the duration of their time together.

Standing from the ground and attempting to hand the now empty bottle to Gath, Arlesse accepted these brave men. A sketchy past didn't matter to her if they were true to their word and got her home. As long as they stayed honorable and protective, she had no reason to feel anything adverse for them.

Deciding that she finally needed to handle matters of an entirely different nature, Arlesse told them, "I need a few minutes."

Gath lifted his head with concern, feeling his face go pale. He worried that something had suddenly gone terribly wrong, and he probably should have stopped Dusty and Mouse before they went too far with revealing their status as rejects. He also feared that if they let the princess out of their sight, something could happen to her and they would risk the mission.

Studying her carefully, Gath asked, "Where are you going?"

Arlesse looked amongst the four pairs of eyes and couldn't control how she cringed at Gath's abrupt question. For all their well intentions, she wondered if she would ever be allowed to know privacy again. She tried to think of how she was supposed to tell these men that she required a few moments without their well-meaning interference. The last time she ever had to tell anyone when she needed to handle such personal matters was years ago, when she was nothing but a youngling. Now, she had to figure out how to handle those personal matters without the comforts she had known her entire life and without insulting the soldiers trying to keep her safe.

Dusty gently pushed Gath's shoulder and took the bottle from the princess. "Give the girl some privacy, will you, _ner vod_? Not everyone can hold it as long as you can. She needs to 'study the plants and flowers closely.'"

Arlesse felt her cheeks burn and could only imagine how red her face had turned. She tried to wrap the blanket tighter around her, wishing she could disappear. After a moment, she opened her eyes and moved quickly away from the camp, leaving the four cloned men behind her while she tried to find someplace far away from them. She suddenly wondered how long she would be able to live with her dignity out in the open for four Republic soldiers to see.


	8. Chapter 7

_Author's Notes_: Thanks to everyone for all the support! You've been great with inspiring me, and I am highly appreciative of your input. I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. As always, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer. At this point in time, this chapter is my personal favorite. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 7**

_I can see how women grow smitten around these clones. They are honor-bound men, whose sole purpose is to the duty of the Republic. There's something poetic in that, and for whatever reason, many women are attracted to poetic fantasies. Of course, there is also some likely truth to the saying about a man looking dapper in an armored uniform._  
Gan Pohin, training sergeant to Crimson Squad, discussing the rumors of the clones in other squads developing relations with women

**Tochin Moon III  
784 Days ABG**

Crimson Squad and Princess Arlesse had finally managed to get moving earlier in the day, and they had progressed a respectable distance from the site of the escape pod's landing. Gath figured they must have covered about four and a half miles in the past couple hours, and even though that was an extremely slow pace for conditioned soldiers, he found himself impressed by the princess' attempts to trudge through distances and terrain she had never endured before. He thought they would have been resting more than walking, but she was making a real effort on her part to not disappoint them. It was almost like she was pushing herself past her limits to gain their acceptance and approval, and Gath was surprised that it wasn't the other way around. Still, he felt no reason to complain about it. It was a relief for once to be treated as though they really meant something.

Looking forward, Gath pushed aside the thought of them being beneath anyone and decided to concentrate again on the never-ending trees and shrubbery that covered the land. Having spent nearly his entire life on a planet where it always rained and was covered with an ocean, the forested moon truly was a surprising but satisfactory contrast.

Suddenly, the princess let out a pained scream as though a weapon had struck her, and every optimistic reflection Gath had about Tochin just went to _haran_. The four helmeted commandos instantly fell into defensive postures with Deeces at the ready. They each took a glance at the princess even though their attention was concentrated more on what was around them.

Arlesse pulled her skirt up to see why her leg felt like it was being stabbed with four very hot wires, and she nearly fainted when she saw the reptilian tail whipping about wildly.

"Shab," Dusty grumbled when he realized that a gold and white snake had attached itself to the side of her lower left leg. Glancing down at his armor, it occurred to him that if any of them had been attacked, they would probably not have even known about it because of how their armor protected them. Unfortunately, the princess had no armor, and that made her vulnerable to any lurking predators. It was a dumb and careless mistake on their part, and he could imagine how it would spark even more insults about the GAR's finest Reject Squad.

Slowly moving toward the snake, Gath decided that simply firing a blaster at it could potentially do more harm than good. It really wasn't big enough to warrant that kind of firepower, and he knew that the best solution was to figure out how to detach it from the princess with minimal damage.

Jas quickly moved toward Arlesse, dropping the Deece to his side and letting the strap catch on his shoulder. He put one arm around her shoulders and one around her waist to help keep her vertical. He was expecting her to go unconscious, just by the way her skin had paled. "_Les'ika_, you need to stay calm. You'll be all right. Take a deep breath."

Arlesse tried to do as instructed, but she wanted to scream instead at the pain. She began to feel lightheaded, and she felt suddenly very heavy. A sob choked her as the snake's fangs continued to dig into her skin and muscle. Her fingernails tried to find purchase on the soldier's armor, and she didn't even think about which of the men had taken hold of her as her trust came naturally just from the touch of his hands.

"Get it off!" she cried, trying to stay strong but wanting instead to curl up until the pain subsided.

"Gath is working on it. He has to be careful so it doesn't attack you again," Jas explained as he brought his arms tighter around her, fearing that she was going to become hysterical. He didn't like the idea of Mouse striking her again if it came to it, and he wasn't sure why but he wanted to protect her from that.

"It's not poisonous," Mouse confirmed, after his database flashed through the wildlife of Moon III and identified the snake. He learned that it was a Pallid Viper, a member of the reptilian snake family that makes its nest only under a particular species of laurel bush. "The venom's a defense to temporarily disable any assailant, giving the snake a chance to flee. _Les'ika_ will feel lightheaded for a little while, but the venom isn't toxic beyond that."

Dusty then looked to the ground and saw the small nest with eggs beneath a shrub. Another snake, smaller in size, lunged at his armor but was not able to penetrate the gray plating. The small snake tried once again but then gave up the fight and slithered away, its primal instincts telling it to take flight rather than stay and fight.

Gath thought about taking his gauntlet blade to the snake and decapitating it, but he opted against that. The princess had told them earlier that most of the forests weren't touched by humans, and that meant they were the ones invading the snake's nest. By the laws of nature, even a Pallid Viper deserved its right to defend its young innocents.

Wrapping his hand carefully around what he could calculate was the snake's neck, Gath squeezed it gently with one hand while he pinched the jaw hinge with the fingers on his other hand. "Come on, now," he softly urged to the creature. "This young lady didn't mean to disturb your hatchlings."

After a couple seconds, Arlesse felt a new pain as the fangs pulled out of her skin and muscle. This time her reaction was more of a groan than a scream. Feeling weak and dizzy, she leaned into Jas, allowing him to support her body's weight.

Gath took the writhing snake and moved closer to the nest. "Get her clear in case it attacks again."

Jas half-dragged the princess a safe distance away, and Gath released the snake. It tried to attack his armor, giving up the fight after a few unsuccessful attempts to break through. Gath backed away, watching the snake curl itself back onto its nest.

"Status," Gath requested as he caught up to the others. He saw that the princess seemed dizzy, clinging to Jas.

"I can't see straight," she said quietly. "It feels like there's a buzz in my head."

"The little lady is a drunkard. Who knew?" Dusty laughed.

"Like you've ever been drunk, _ner vod_," Mouse shot back.

"She needs a break," Jas said. "The venom might not have been deadly, but she's in no condition to continue right now."

Dusty lowered his Deece and looked to the human female who resembled more of a disheveled mess than a princess. "You know, if you wanted a break, you just had to ask. Stepping into a snake's nest is a bit extreme."

Arlesse opened her eyes and looked at the gray armor of the commando who had a gift for being witty. She wished she had that gift. Maybe she wouldn't seem to be weak all the time if she could hide it with quick words. "I didn't mean…"

Dusty patted her gently on the head. "_Les'ika_, a good reply would have been to say that you like a little drama in your life."

Arlesse merely nodded and closed her eyes again, hoping the snakebite would wear off soon.

Gath took a breath and turned to look at his squad. There was no sign of civilization anywhere remotely nearby. He knew that they were fortunate enough to have crash-landed in the thicker regions of Tochin's forest, but it seemed that the forest went on for miles. Ferns, trees, undergrowth, and various small mammals greeted them regularly, but the mammals were skitterish and quickly returned to their hidden nests in the undergrowth. Still, Gath decided not to complain. They were able to keep out of sight while in the forest from any potential roving Separatist ships that might invade and they were shielded from the warm spring sun.

Trying not to depend solely on rations, they made sure to catalog the edible fruits and vegetation of the forest. However, with the princess not trained in water consumption, they found she needed to hydrate more often than they did. Gath knew that their bottles and the canteen bladders in their kits would be out of water soon if they didn't come across a water source before much longer.

Moving his eyes to the young princess, Gath admired the fact that she was trying to hold her own, but exhaustion had been evident on her face, even before the snake's attack. Now, she slumped with the weight of her new condition and the residual pain that had been inflicted on her leg. If it weren't for Jas' grasp, she probably would have face planted onto the forest floor by now.

Catching sight of some downed logs and a number of boulders jutting from the ground a relative number of yards away, Gath pointed to the area where they could rest.

"We'll set up near those rocks," he instructed, indicating one of the flatter boulders.

Mouse suddenly paused as he turned from the group as though listening to something. "I think I hear water running in the distance."

Dusty stopped and joined his brother in listening. "Small stream by the sound of it."

Gath turned to his squad of brothers and felt relief at the potential to refill their water stock. "Dusty and I will take all our canteen bladders and water bottles. We'll find the stream and return with fresh water. Mouse and Jas will stay here with her and check on the damage to her leg."

Mouse quickly removed his kit from his back and then helped Jas remove his while Jas continued to keep the young princess vertical. Mouse then removed the canteen bladders and the nearly empty water bottles from the kits, supplying them to Gath. Returning the heavy pack to his back, Mouse then took Jas' and returned it to his back.

Dusty and Gath didn't waste any time as they disappeared into the underbrush of the forest, moving in the opposite direction that Gath had indicated for Jas and Mouse to go.

Mouse stood on Arlesse's left while Jas took her right. The quiet commando kept his attention looking out around them, prepared to drop the princess into Jas' full grasp in case he needed to grab his Deece.

Jas had put his arm around the princess' waist to try and take some of the weight off her, but he found it a little uncomfortable with the odd angle he had to use to hold her. He still had some trouble adjusting to her tiny frame.

Suddenly, Mouse raised his arm in the halt position, and his Deece was steadied in his hands. He trained his visor on something, and his body movements went extremely still.

Arlesse looked around them concerned that there was another nest of snakes or something worse, but the dizziness quickly made her close her eyes again. Jas scanned his eyes into the forestry, concerned that if he took his arm from her, she would fall onto the ground. Arlesse swallowed hard, trying to fight against the hypnotic buzz that filled her head, and she feared distracting Mouse, as she was certain he was tracking something.

"Carnivorous flightless avian. Fang-bird approximately forty feet away at my eleven o'clock," Mouse explained softly, reading out loud the facts on his HUD. "If it caught scent of her blood…" Mouse trailed off for a moment, deciding not to explain that part while he continued accessing the database in his HUD. "The fang-bird doesn't fly, but it runs, and the damn thing feeds a family of six."

"What's the plan?" Jas asked.

"I'm hungry and want a real supper," Mouse grumbled as though it was obvious.

Jas knew better than to ask if Mouse could make a clean kill on it, but his brother's shooting skills wasn't his concern. Instead he replied, "Both of us can't leave her."

"Good, you stay," Mouse answered, as he began slowly and silently moving into the underbrush of the forest. "I want meat."

Jas sighed quietly knowing that Gath was not going to be happy about Mouse splitting up from them. Besides that, Jas calculated that the rocks were still a good half-dozen yards away, and he couldn't bear the thought of twisting his height down to the princess any longer, especially not while trying to carry his kit and his weaponry, and especially not while she was on the verge of falling over.

Opting for a different tactic, Jas brought the princess in his arms, holding her with his one arm supporting her legs and his other arm around her shoulders. He carried her the last remaining yards towards the rocks that Gath had indicated.

Arlesse brought one of her arms around Jas' armored neck, trying to keep her head from spinning and trying to keep her balance. His actions had suddenly confused her between surprise that he had done such a bold move and admiration that he had lifted her so easily.

"I made a mess of things, didn't I?" she asked gently. "We were moving just fine until…"

"None of us knew the nest was there," he answered with an interruption to her concerns. He didn't want her to take the blame for a creature that they should have been more careful about detecting. "It's our fault for our lack of observation, not yours."

"But you can't watch every last creature in these forests," she tried to reason.

"And neither can you," he replied quickly. "So we call it a draw."

She decided not to argue this soldier's logic, not that she could have thought of anything else convincing with which to protest. She had just proved with Dusty a few minutes ago that she was not quick-tongued, and it frustrated her that she could never develop clever comebacks.

Suddenly, though, Arlesse found that her thoughts had strayed elsewhere and her silent complaints shut themselves down. Being so close to the soldier's helmet, she began studying the blue visor and the curves of the faceplate. She could see little scratches and dents in the helmet's armor, and she briefly wondered how the helmet had acquired them. Her eyes drifted down to a large mark of carbon scoring on his chest plate and her free hand moved to touch it. As her fingers grazed the blemish, she felt herself gently lowered onto one of the boulders.

Jas carefully placed the princess onto the large rock. He was aware of her staring strangely at his armor as though trying to understand the damage that covered it. He saw her fingers move toward one of the marks his armor had received in the firefight prior to rescuing her, and he wondered for a moment if he should mention the dangers that they undertook to get her safely away from the Separatist base.

Instead of talking about their battle, however, he took his kit off his back explaining, "There should be something in the med-kit to clean and close the bite to your leg."

Arlesse looked to Jas' gloved hands wondering how he could do any kind of intricate things with them on. She watched him open the backpack and pull out a small, rolled package. Despite the gloves on his hands, he unrolled the pack with no effort, and Arlesse saw that the medical roll contained some basic first aid necessities as well as a few syringes, some stitching line, a few needles, a wad of bacta gauze, and a couple medical tools that she found she didn't want to think about how they were used.

Looking at the medical equipment made Arlesse realize that there was the potential of his hands being upon her, gloved or not, and it left her with a nervousness that didn't feel entirely wrong. Clinically, she knew he would only be trying to alleviate her injury. However, it was the thoughts of her imagination that were biting into her logic.

Forcing her eyes away from the medical kit and the Republic soldier for a moment, Arlesse pushed any further ridiculous fantasy thoughts from her mind and blamed the snakebite for them. Since she was fourteen years old, she had her heart set on Duke Caspan Crueé, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man who seemed chiseled from a sculpture of what a perfect sovereign should look like.

However, as soon as Arlesse thought about Caspan, she suddenly wondered why she felt she needed to defend her allurement to the duke. He never took the initiative to acknowledge her or her infatuations, and it had broken her heart every time he looked at another woman instead of her. In those rare moments when Caspan did look upon Arlesse, it was always in respect for her position as the princess of Tochin – never as a potential companion.

While Arlesse silently struggled with her thoughts, Jas took off his helmet and set it next to him on the boulder, knowing that wearing it at this moment wouldn't do him any good. It had night vision, enhanced visuals, and enhanced audio, but it didn't have any kind of body scanning devices. Besides, sometimes he just preferred his own eyes, and sometimes he just liked to be free of the HUD visuals that were constantly in motion. He found removing the helmet occasionally helped to give his eyes and his thoughts a rest.

Arlesse looked to this soldier as he finished setting up the medical kit, studying his dark hair and deep brown eyes. He was so different from the men she had been exposed to her entire life. In her father's court, everyone always held themselves with an air of power and poise. Those men did their best to make a show of their appearances, seeming to display how power came not only from within but from a high level of care on the outside as well. Jas, however, was a man of humility, doing a duty he had been trained to do: he followed orders and did not command them. His appearance was one of a young man who could be deadly and innocent.

The thin shadow of stubble that started to set on his cheeks made him momentarily seem older than he should be, yet his eyes remained childlike and young. Jas was a contradiction that Arlesse wasn't entirely sure she understood but had begun to find fascinating.

Aside from her fascinations, Arlesse found there was something appealing about this soldier. She realized that his dark features were not without their own charm and attraction. His appearance was just different from what Arlesse had been accustomed to seeing her entire life, and she knew that Jas deserved much more respect than the silly fantasies of a sheltered girl.

Jas confirmed that he had everything accessible from the med-kit that he might need, and he kept his _buy'ce_ close by with the volume loud enough so that he could hear his brothers over the speakers if they needed him. He had laid his gloves beside the helmet, just in case they would have been more restricting than helpful.

"_Les'ika_," he said nervously, "I need you to…" _Shab_, he thought, as he realized she was going to have to raise her skirts so that he could see her leg. He wondered if there was any appropriate way to ask her to lift her clothing, but nothing came to mind.

Arlesse took a quick breath as Jas' voice abruptly broke her thoughts, the deep sound of it interlaced with that unusual and exotic accent that she was certain she would never forget. She realized for a moment that she had grown quite fond of that accent and that his voice alone could seep right into her. It was almost like he knew that she was thinking about him in a capacity that wasn't acceptable, and he knew that his accent would wake her from her petty and childish daydreaming.

For a moment, Jas thought he had insulted her when she took in a sudden intake of breath. However, he watched her hands move toward the edge of her skirt to lift it away from the injury, and he thought maybe she was as nervous about his question as he was.

Jas decided to kneel next her, as it seemed more appropriate than being before her. He looked down to her legs and saw that they were covered with a pair of plain leggings that she wore beneath her dress. He felt instantly relieved at the sight of the extra layer of undergarments because he wouldn't have the helmet to hide his roaming eyes this time if they decided to be sinful again, and he didn't want a slap across his face if his eyes moved of their own volition to places he had no business viewing.

"_Les'ika_," Jas said softly. "Would you…?"

Arlesse leaned forward and realized that she had forgotten about her pantaloons. She slipped her fingers under the material near her shin and pulled it further toward her knee. While doing so, she was vaguely aware that her face had moved to within inches of this soldier, and she could see more scoring marks along his wrist gauntlets as well as his torso plate. She briefly wondered why she never noticed the battle damage on him before when it was so glaringly obvious.

Jas looked down to the exposed leg and then brought his eyes up to the princess, forcing himself to stay focused on the task of healing her injury. "We'll start with some bacta spray. It will kill any infections and help the bite heal faster."

Arlesse shifted her gaze down to her wounded leg. There were four large holes on the side of her leg and blood was smeared all over her calf. She moved the material of her pantaloons and saw more blood in addition to the identical holes in the cloth.

Jas reached for the bacta spray bottle. He gave it a quick shake to make sure it hadn't settled when he was aware that her small hand touched upon his wrist gauntlet, and the gentle pressure was enough to stop him dead. Jas was confused, as didn't understand the strange feelings that started to emerge, and why he noticed them so clearly all of a sudden. He knew she was the mission objective, the reason they were assigned to Tochin, and thinking of her in any way beyond that could be dangerous to both the mission and her. But, how exactly was he thinking of her? That was what he still couldn't figure out or understand.

Trying to shake his overwhelming thoughts away, Jas began to think it was just his lack of female interaction, and that he should have been taught more about women. Unfortunately, the Kaminoans failed to have foresight in their creation and planning of the clones to think that Jas and his brothers would need lessons on females. Crimson Squad, like so many of the other clone troops, was only created for one reason: to fight a war. Female social interaction was never part of the training plan.

Arlesse felt her heart pounding in her chest and didn't understand why. Certainly a motion that was as simple as touching Jas in such a manner could not be the sole cause for her strange reaction. None of the male suitors of her father's court had ever made her so nervous, not even the young men whose affections she tried to attract. And, not even Caspan for all her infatuation with him had ever been able to make her feel quite this breathless.

"Is something wrong?" Jas asked, aware that the longer her touch stayed on him, the more it felt like she was burning him through the armor.

"What if you need that instead?" she replied, forcing herself to breathe so that she could talk.

Jas looked to the little bottle in his hand and then to her small hand upon him. He decided that the bacta spray was easier to comprehend. "We can't risk you getting an infection. It would potentially end this mission a lot sooner than any of us had planned, and I think your ability to walk right now is our priority. We can't continue unless you can."

Arlesse took her hand away suddenly and nodded absently. She heard Jas open the top to the bottle and felt the cool tingle as he sprayed the bacta over her bite marks.

Jas then pulled out a small packet that contained gauze prepared with a gentle cleanser. He touched the small gauze to her leg, attempting to swab away the smears of blood that had streaked over her skin.

Arlesse suddenly felt every fantasy she ever had for any of the men of court vanish from her thoughts as the effects of the snakebite had subsided considerably. She was thinking more clearly now, and she had no doubt that there was something comforting and natural about Jas' gentle and careful touch as he cleaned her injury. His rough, warm fingers brushed against her skin as he worked, and a jolt of electricity tore from her chest, sparking throughout her. She fought against the tremble it left in her body and found her breath stuck in her throat.

"Did I hurt you?" Jas asked, momentarily afraid that he had done something wrong and caused her further distress.

Arlesse shook her head, still feeling his fingertips upon her skin. She didn't know why the thought occurred to her, but she was suddenly overwhelmed with the immature realization that she couldn't remember if her legs were still smooth or if they had developed stubble, and she didn't want this soldier, this man, to have to endure another of her many shortcomings.

Feeling a tightness in her hands, Arlesse became aware that her fingers had clutched the fabric of the dress tightly, and her knuckles had cramped with the pressure. She looked to her whitened knuckles, trying not to think about how this soldier had very easily and unknowingly began to capture her emotions in ways she had never imagined or felt before.

"I'm fine. I…" she didn't know what to say. What could she say? She knew she couldn't tell him what his touch had done and that she strangely wished to have those fingertips grazing her hand or touching upon her cheek. She couldn't dare look him in the eyes for fear he might see how she was developing an attraction to him. And, she knew that just like all the others, he would find some excuse to turn her away.

Without the venom's effect to cover anything silly she might say, she quietly repeated, "I'm fine."

Jas swallowed hard as he tried to remain still and calm. He really wished he had more training with the female gender. The princess confused him greatly at times, and this was one of those times. He could see that something about him had obviously made her tense and uncomfortable, and he did not want her to feel that around him. It would make it harder to protect her if she was doubtful and uncomfortable with his actions.

Pushing his roaming thoughts into the mental box, Jas knew he needed to help her with her injury so that they could finish the mission and get her back home safely. Then, he and his brothers could return to a real mission…as soon as he thought it, he nearly regretted the thought, not because transporting the princess wasn't a real mission. He realized that he was just starting to know someone who wasn't raised on Kamino or wasn't part of the war directly, and it was a strangely refreshing concept. Even with all the nervous anxiety she created in him, he found it comforting and exciting.

Immediately, Jas shut down the thoughts with as much speed as he could and stuffed them into the box in his mind. There were so many factors against him to ever consider a woman in a manner other than a pawn he was ordered to protect. He was simply a soldier created solely to fight a war, not a common citizen who looked for the companionship of another. On top of that, if he ever did meet a woman who would share affections, it would never last long. He was cursed to have his life come to an abrupt end, either by his age limitations or his mission dangers.

Moving his eyes away from the princess' face, Jas firmly put his thoughts into the task at hand. He would not allow himself any more distractions. Looking at her leg, Jas set a small patch from the medical kit on it and pressed the adhesive gauze onto her injured skin. He was satisfied that her bleeding had stopped since it was not showing through the bandage.

Opening her eyes again, Arlesse found herself staring at his wrist gauntlet, noting the black streaks and powder-like grit on it. Unable to stop herself, she reached toward the marks and touched the remnants of a battle Jas had been within and survived. She couldn't pretend any longer that she didn't notice such things, and she finally had to know the answers to questions that had been burning deep within her.

"Was that because of me?" she suddenly asked, letting her fingers trace one of the darker carbon scoring marks on his wrist gauntlet. She couldn't yet bring her eyes to his, but she needed to know what kind of trouble she had caused these poor soldiers and if there would ever be any way to repay their courage.

Jas watched her hand on him, her small fingers barely touching the burn on his armor that he didn't have a chance to clean since their narrow escape from the Separatist base on Moon II. He couldn't remember which battle droid had fired the shot, and he didn't really care as long as he and his brothers were alive.

"It's from a battle droid," he answered.

"A battle droid you fought to save me?" she questioned.

Jas watched her forehead crease in curiosity while her fingers seemed to be tracing and counting the multitude of marks on his arm and shoulder armor, and for the barest of seconds he wondered what those soft, flawless fingertips would feel like against his skin. Forcing himself to shut off those stupid kinds of distractions, Jas didn't know why she needed to know the answer to such a question anyway. His purpose was to take risks for the betterment of the Republic at all times.

Reluctantly, however, he replied, "Yes."

That brought her eyes up to his chest armor, and she studied the large carbon scoring mark she found there as well. "This one, too?"

"No," he answered, feeling his breath grow tight. He wondered how could she affect him so strongly. "That came from one of your captors."

He watched her fingers tremble, and she took a deep breath while some kind of silent realization shone in her dull, blue eyes.

"Jas, you could have died for me, and you don't even know me."

He started to put the medical equipment back into the kit, trying desperately to ignore the distraction of her touch. She made him confused and vulnerable, and such feelings would endanger her and the mission. Not looking up, he explained, "_Les'ika_, I could die for any of the countless numbers of citizens in the Republic, and they would never know me either."

Arlesse clearly heard his frustration in his matter-of-fact reply. "Has anyone ever thanked you?"

Jas continued to keep his eyes downward on the task of putting the kit away. He didn't know why she had to question him in such a manner, but her words were harshly true, and his answer stung just as strongly. "No."

Arlesse took a saddened breath at this soldier's response. She didn't understand how someone could willingly and continually follow orders to do a job that was thankless and why he would want to continue to do so. She watched his eyes grow darker, and she wondered if there would ever be a way to thank him properly for risking his life for her. For now, she merely had words.

"Jas, if I hadn't said so before…" she paused deciding to be blunt as opposed to careful with her words. This was one time he needed to hear it without any unnecessary stammering or verbiage. "Thank you. I would never have survived if it wasn't for you."

He felt his eyes quickly rise to hers, needing to defend his brothers' involvement. "I'm not the only one who saved you."

"I know. Your friends…"

"Brothers, please," he amended. Then, he wasn't sure why but he decided to teach her another _Mando'a_ word. With the way he and his brothers spoke it so freely, she was bound to pick up a few words anyway. "_Vode_."

"Va-hod?" she asked, testing the single word.

He nodded with a small smile, letting her know that her attempt to pronounce the word was very close. He returned the medical supplies back into his kit. "_Vode_ in this case means 'brothers' in _Mando'a_."

"Man-doh-ah?" she asked remembering that Dusty had used the phrase once before. "Is that your language?"

"Yes. Our training sergeant taught it to us."

"I'd like to learn your language," Arlesse said with her eyes seeming to be brighter now as a grateful smile moved across her lips. She felt her eyes lingering on his, and the rush of her heart beating started anew. "It will help me remember you and your…_vode_ for saving me."

Jas smiled fully this time when the princess said the word correctly, and he did not see any harm in teaching her a language she could never use amongst her own kind. He found he liked the idea of being remembered, even if it would be in only a few _Mando'a_ words that he taught her during their short time together. Aware that he was still smiling, Jas realized that he could not look away from her, as her blue eyes were holding onto his. For a moment there was a comfort in being held captive by her gaze. Despite her smile, he could see that she held concern for him and was regretful that she could do very little to offer appropriate gratitude.

Continuing to study her face, Jas knew that he had seen holos of women that were classified as being far prettier than the princess, but there was an attraction he found in the curve of her jaw and the angle of her cheeks. She was not unsymmetrical, and her blue eyes sparked with some new light in them suddenly. He felt his eyes fall onto her pale lips, and he swallowed hard, feeling his smile fade away. That one little movement of his eyes had begun a nervous sensation he thought had long passed. As his eyes came back to hers, he saw that her breath had quickened.

Feeling his heart pounding in his chest and threatening to smash through his chest bone Jas wondered if she could hear it also. None of it made any sense, and he didn't understand why these reactions came on so strong suddenly. A few minutes ago, he was perfectly calm and enjoying her company. Now, he fought against a new reaction to be closer to her.

Arlesse knew her smile faded as she continued to watch this soldier and his dark eyes. His irises were made from a deep brown that showed her things she had never seen in any other being, things like how he was a man with child-like curiosity and how there was a spark of innocence despite his experienced life.

She saw his eyes drop momentarily to her lips, and she could have sworn in that instant, he had inched closer to her. Suddenly, her heart raced and her breath grew quick and ragged. Arlesse swallowed, wondering if maybe there was a chance for once she wouldn't be turned away.

Trying to control her trembling fingers, Alresse dared herself to make a bold move and grazed them over his hand. She felt a series of tiny scars covering his skin, making it rough. She let her fingers move to his palm, finding it was covered in calluses, and his fingers seemed huge compared to hers.

Jas couldn't stop himself and laced his fingers into hers, his thumb tracing the softness of her palm. He had grown lost in the sensation that anyone could ever have such smooth skin, and he felt no rough spots on her hand, unlike his that was covered with them. The tiny size of her fingers made her almost seem alien, yet her hand fit comfortably in his.

Their eyes caught once again, and Arlesse began to bring her other hand to his face. She needed to touch him, to see be certain that Jas truly existed before her and was not another one of her fantasies.

"Was she a good patient?" Dusty asked, as he and Gath returned.

Gasping audibly, Arlesse suddenly turned her head away from Jas, and her hands quickly found a new purchase as they grasped the material of her skirt tightly. She was certain that her face was flushed, and she hoped none of the others would see it as she closed her eyes and tried to will the embarrassment away.

Jas turned to his brothers and saw that they had made good on their promise to come back with water as the bottles and the canteen bladders were now filled. However, Jas felt a new and strange disappointment race through him when his brothers had returned so quickly. Unable to look at the princess for the moment, he tried to clear away the touch of her hand, the soft warmth of her skin. He tried not to think about the hopeful light that shone in her eyes as he looked at her and how he had begun to feel a hunger that was new and exciting.

Trying to sound as casual as he could, Jas reported, "She'll be fine. The bacta settled the wound, and she's patched up now."

"How long before we can go again?" Gath asked.

Jas looked to the princess and saw that she seemed to be confused and disheartened, but he knew that none of it was because of some venomous snakebite. He had seen only moments ago that her eyes were clear, and her thoughts obviously coherent. But, he wasn't going to acknowledge to his brothers that he had a momentary lapse of his duties and nearly succumbed to an attraction that he didn't understand or predict.

"She recovered quickly," Jas answered instead. "Once Mouse returns, we can probably be on the move again."

Arlesse took a long breath, forcing her wild emotions under control. She opened her eyes while Jas spoke and looked to the soldiers, knowing that whatever influence she had been under by Jas' gaze was now broken and long gone. She doubted there would ever be another opportunity again for such a moment.

"Where did Mouse go?" Gath asked now, still looking for the full story. He wasn't quite sure yet what to make of catching Jas and the princess engaged so closely.

"He went hunting," Jas responded as he moved to put the rest of his kit back together, storing the canteen bladder in its rightful place.

Dusty took his helmet off and smiled brightly. "Good. That means no ration cubes for supper tonight."


	9. Chapter 8

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again for the reviews and for the interest! It's always good to hear from everyone…from those who started this story with me in the beginning up to the newcomers just discovering it now. As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 8**

_I've heard people say that we don't care about them and that it's immoral to have used them from the start. They're right, and I often wondered what other choice we could have made when our backs were against the wall. The Clone Army was a grave mistake, but not because of their lives as men, as beings. It was a mistake because of how they have been used and exploited. How many of them will ever have any kind of normalcy…a relationship…a family?  
_Private journal of General Bardan Jusik, prior to resigning from the Jedi Order

**Tochin Moon III  
784 Days ABG**

Gath and Dusty had settled themselves upon the rocks while they waited for Mouse to return. According to the timeframe that Jas provided, Mouse had only been gone for about fifteen minutes, and they all knew that once their brother took chase to a prey – whether it was for a mission or for his own purposes – he didn't relent until his quarry was caught.

Gath took a moment review in his HUD additional data about the moon of Tochin they were stranded upon. He had wanted to know more about this Fang-bird that Jas had told them Mouse was hunting. Considering the bird's predatory nature, Gath decided that it was probably better that Mouse chased it down than the bird finding them. The flightless avian ran at speeds of twenty miles an hour and once it caught its prey with its razor-sharp claws, it dug its fangs mercilessly into a strong artery on the helpless prey and drank the blood for its sustenance.

Taking a tally now, Gath concluded that they had Pallid Vipers and Fang-birds to contend with in the forests. He was beginning to understand now why the princess' father had kept her locked so closely in her palace where she was safe.

Dusty pulled free from his kit their spare water bottle that they had confiscated earlier in the morning from the escape pod. He offered it to the princess, trying to study the confusion in her eyes. "_Les'ika_, you didn't have to push yourself so hard. Your father would probably kill us if we brought you back on your deathbed."

Arlesse took the offered water and swallowed down a large mouthful, not realizing just how dry her throat had become. She wasn't entirely sure if it was because of her want to keep up with these military-trained soldiers, her frightened screams from the snake, or her moment of nervous confusion with Jas.

Looking to Dusty as he removed his helmet and took his own drink of water, she responded, "I'm just trying to not be a helpless waste of your time. I thought if I made an effort with something as simple as walking, I might earn your respect."

"Ma'am," Gath said, as he now pulled free from his helmet and the data that that he had been studying. His concern about Mouse's disappearance was evident on his face while he continued speaking to the princess, "You and I had this discussion already…"

"Then, I need to do this for myself," she interrupted, allowing herself a moment to let her determination flash in her eyes. Then, she felt herself quickly glancing at Jas but not entirely certain why. "I just need to try to do something to the best that I can on my own."

Jas looked to the princess and felt himself studying her with some strange mixture of curiosity and admiration. He was curious about what would motivate her to push past her comfort and he admired that sudden spark of determination that was in her eyes. He was proud of her for trying to do her best in their given situation and not being a conceited monarch who demanded they follow her inexperienced commands.

Dusty looked from Arlesse to Jas and he caught a momentary spark of something between them. It was a connection of some kind, something intangible that was both a mutual respect and something he couldn't quite grasp. After a moment, Dusty suddenly hid the smirk on his face as he realized that _Les'ika_ was trying to impress Jas and that Jas had taken a liking to the young monarch. And, now he knew exactly what he had interrupted earlier and almost wished that he had diverted Gath for just a few minutes longer.

Shifting his eyes quickly to Gath, Dusty thought about the conversation the two of them shared while they had been gathering the water. Gath had admitted that he thought Princess Arlesse was a good person and was a decent being despite her birthing into privilege and status. However, he was insistent that because she was royalty, it meant that they were even further burdened with bringing her home without anything else happening to her. He pointed out how on a couple instances they had breached the orders they were given and were skirting near insubordination. Gath then emphasized that he had no intention to experience a DC-17 court-martial, especially not over a mission as easy as the extraction of a royal pawn in a Separatist power struggle.

Dusty took another swallow of his water and thought about how seriously Gath took his mission orders. Dusty was certain that Gath would never allow Jas the opportunity to experience anything mutual with the princess, even if it would only turn into something as innocent as a fleeting love of weaponry. However, Dusty also knew that he and his brothers were the Reject Squad. If there was any way to pull off the impossible and even break a rule or two while doing so, they were the men for the job. They had a talent for skirting insubordination and exhibited a natural gift when it came to rule bending.

Gath caught Dusty's eyes with his own and Dusty quickly offered a relaxed and casual smile. He was already devising ways to distract Gath long enough so that Jas and the princess would be left alone more often than not. Dusty had the opportunity once in his life to enjoy an experience that wasn't solely about war and he believed that Jas deserved the same opportunity. If Gath and Mouse ever had their time come forth, Dusty would be certain they received their moments, too.

Gath turned suddenly to the shrubbery around them and saw the familiar shape of Republic Commando armor. Mouse casually walked from the thickness of the forest moving toward the rocks where the others were waiting, and for the barest of moments, he looked like some ancient warrior stepping out of the past as he returned from a hunt. Mouse's Deece hung by his right side within easy access while a three-foot sized Fang-bird was slung over his left shoulder.

The creature was rather ugly now that they could see it up close. Its beak had two fangs that hung down from the top, and claws that would easily and painfully shred into whatever prey it hunted. The brown and gray feathers that covered it were more leathery than soft and patterned to look like the bark of a tree.

Mouse set the bird down on one of the rocks, the carbon scoring pinpointed to the bird's head. One shot, and its brain had been fried along with the eyes and the head feathers. Considering it was going to become their supper, the sacrifice was virtually painless to the creature and it left all the meat on it unaltered.

"What the hell were you thinking, _ner vod_?" Gath asked sounding angry, but he was actually relieved that his brother was safe. "You were told to stay with Jas."

Mouse took his helmet off and grabbed a bottle of water. As he opened it, he explained, "One: the Fang-bird would have attacked once it smelled _Les'ika_'s blood. Two: I was hungry, and it's a decent meal, something we may never get again in this forest."

"That's it?" Dusty asked, looking at the size of the bird and intervening between Gath and Mouse. "The bird's just barely enough for me. You should have shot a second one for everyone else."

"Then, go find your own meal you ungrateful…"

"Now what are you doing?" Gath asked, hoping to get moving again since they were all present and accounted for. He wanted to get another couple miles in before night.

"Preparing a meal," Mouse replied as he put down the bottle of water and took a couple of the leathery feathers in his hand. Abruptly he plucked them free of the dead beast and without hesitating, he took a couple more in his hand and did the same.

Arlesse suddenly got up from the rock she had been upon and clutched her stomach wearily as she limped gently, favoring her injured leg. The sight of the blood on the quills after having been pulled off the bird had just pushed her over her limits. She thought the bird's burnt head was sickening, but the sound of the plucking and the sight of the dead creature just became too much for her. She moved away from the dead avian and the soldier who was eager to get it cooked.

Jas watched the princess take her leave of the others, and he followed her as she stepped with delicate care away from the grotesque scene. He was concerned about how she moved uncertainly with her leg and worried that maybe it wasn't as healed as he thought. He had seen that the bite had been deep and she probably needed a couple more hours off the injury to be sure that the muscle beneath had begun healing.

"You look ill," he observed, alarmed that she might be having a relapse of the snake's poison.

She looked to the woods and then glanced quickly back to the sight of the bird being cleaned for a meal. Just as quickly her eyes returned to the green and brown of the forest around her. Her hand lifted at an odd angle from her body as the tried to point at the scene behind them. "I can't watch…that."

Jas turned to his brothers as Gath and Mouse were now helping to pluck feathers and remove the Fang-bird's head while Dusty began gathering firewood. He could see how it could be perceived as a disturbing scene, especially after recently being forced to watch a man go though a dissection, something that might be far too similar in her mind to be comprehensible. Besides that, he doubted she actually had the opportunity to witness the butchering of the beasts used for meals, and it wasn't the kind of sight most beings could withstand.

"Mouse is an experienced hunter and isn't easily disturbed," Jas explained. "He just took for granted what he would normally do and simply didn't realize it would upset you."

Arlesse threw a quick smile over her shoulder as she stepped carefully, trying not to put too much weight on her leg. Even though she was certain of Jas' first aid skills, her leg ached with a dull throbbing that she could only comprehend was the bacta wearing off and her body beginning to heal on its own.

Continuing on her way, Arlesse targeted a particular shrub that was blooming with bright yellow leaves and had small fruit covering it. The fruit was the size of her thumb and was oval in shape with an orange-red color. The exterior of the fruit was smooth and shiny, more like a skin than a rind.

"I'm seeing a lot more of everything than I ever expected," she smiled, being sure to cautiously step over a small, downed tree. "I suppose I never imagined what would bother me until I actually saw it happen. I just…I don't like being weak and scared, and I'm sorry that you and your _vode_ had to be the ones to rescue the likes of me."

Jas took a quiet breath, easily keeping her pace. He expected her to trip or collapse from her injury, but she was being careful about her surroundings. "You shouldn't say that, _Les'ika_. You were caught blindsided in a situation where you had no control. The way you were raised couldn't ever prepare you for this."

"You sound like Gath," she laughed gently, realizing just how similar these clones could be when they wanted. She saw them by their personalities, not their faces. They had very obvious differences in their body language, but every now and again, they would imitate each other, and she thought it was amusing because they had no idea they did so. "He told me the same thing earlier."

Hearing the gentle laugh from the princess, Jas instantly appreciated the sound. He couldn't ever remember having heard a woman's laughter before, but hers was almost musical, coming out in a medium pitch of notes in a scale that was comforting to the ears. He wondered for a moment what else could get her to laugh, and if he was capable of finding the triggers that would reveal her sense of humor.

However, her laugh was quick in passing, and her voice dropped into sadness. "I can't help thinking that maybe if I had been raised stronger, I wouldn't have been kidnapped or maybe I could have helped that cloned man."

Jas didn't like the way this conversation was going now, and he tried to divert her. He wanted her to be happy and laughing, not returning to that haunting moment in her life that would always undermine her virtue. "_Les'i_…"

"I know you thought it. You all did," she interrupted as the smile faded from her face. "Each of you has to be thinking that if I was just a little braver or cockier, I could have stalled Hazar from killing him."

Jas felt the guilt overwhelm him suddenly as he did have such thoughts. He had wondered what would have happened differently if she wasn't so kind and gentle. He tried to contemplate a different scenario and how that would affect them now.

After a moment, he looked to her and he decided that a woman with an edge, a woman with more hardened emotions would not have noticed the battle damage on his armor or look upon him with compassion. A woman who was stronger would have ignored those fine details and would have brushed him off as just another clone, another soldier. And, a woman who did not hold such compassion would never have found it within her to genuinely thank him for saving her.

"_Les'ika_," Jas said softly. "Please stop. Don't carry guilt that isn't yours."

Arlesse couldn't help her hands balling into fists. She watched a man die, an innocent man who had done nothing but be on a side in a war, and the side he was on wasn't even his own choosing. The mercenary simply killed that cloned soldier because he could, not because it was an order in a war. Had that cloned man chosen his future, maybe he wouldn't have been a soldier and maybe he would never have been captured. She knew, though, that regardless of how the cloned man came to be in Hazar's possession, the mercenary killed him because it was something to do to pass the time. He didn't kill him for the good of all in order to save an entire population or world, and that was the crime she could never see justified. That was the reason Hazar and the clone continued to haunt her.

She looked from Jas for a moment and stared at the blurry green around her. She could still see that trooper's eyes and the fear he held in them. He was not only afraid for himself, but he was scared that he would fail in his duty to keep Hazar away from her. The cloned man's screams sometimes echoed in her ears, and right now he was standing beside her, shouting in agony until he was hoarse.

Jas realized that the princess' thoughts had drifted far away. He suddenly took hold of her shoulders, making his grasp strong but not painful. He had merely jerked her gently to get her to return to the present, and as his hands cupped her tiny form, he almost felt like a giant standing before her. It made him afraid of being too rough, too strong, and he didn't want to hurt her.

"_Les'ika_," he said with an edge in his voice.

She turned to Jas and the screams silenced, the images faded. She took a deep breath and had somehow managed to avoid spilling any tears. Her voice was full of understanding and realization. "That man shouldn't have died, not like that."

"I know," Jas told her. "It was not honorable, but you have to move on. That trooper would have wanted you to. He wouldn't want you berating yourself because you survived and he didn't. He knew his duty, and he chose to stand before you as a barrier. He wanted to keep you safe because that was what he was taught to do."

"How do you know?" she asked softly.

"Because I would have done the same thing," Jas replied, slipping his hands free. He didn't know what possessed him to grab her so desperately and be so brutally honest about protecting her. Maybe he just didn't want to see her carrying a burden that should never have been hers. "It's who we are and what we do as soldiers and what we should do as men."

Arlesse took a shuddering breath at his words. She was growing fond of him, feeling more than just an attraction to his physical attributes. She still barely knew him, but he surprised her with his intelligence and his compassion. She could see in his dark eyes that he spoke the truth about protecting her, but it was his acknowledgement that he was a man that struck her. She wanted to suddenly find a way to punish every one of those ignorant nobles who said that the clones were flesh droids. This man, this human man, had more chivalry than a room full of what was supposed to be Tochin's finest men.

"Jas, you're a better man than most of the ones I've known my entire life," she breathed.

Something about her words made Jas feel awkward and suddenly very shy. He couldn't possibly belong on the pedestal she had just placed him. He was a clone, a being created to fight a war. He had been told by Gan numerous times that it was wrong to have been created to do the work of others and not even be given the respect of having a citizenship in the Republic for which he fought. Gan hated that the Clone Army was merely given orders to follow and objectives to obtain.

And as Jas looked to Arlesse and thought about her kind words, he knew he could stand no chance against political figures and men who held power in a royal court. He didn't understand how she could see such things within when he never saw them for himself, even though Gan had his rantings about it from the start.

"You sound like Gan," he told her timidly. _Ba'vodu Gan_ never thought Jas or his brothers were less than good men. He was probably the only one who ever did. Everyone else thought they were rejects, clones that should have been terminated. Their bickering alone was enough to make the Kaminoans prepare the reconditioning chamber for them more than once, and he briefly wondered what those Kaminoans thought of Crimson now with their mission success rate at one hundred percent.

"Who is Gan?" Arlesse asked, putting a hand on Jas' forearm. She sensed he was opening up, dropping his façade of being a duty-driven soldier, and she wanted to know more about the man beneath that armor.

Jas saw her small fingers on his arm plate, and he was lost for a moment between the excitement of her touch and the nervousness it created. He tried instead to concentrate on the difference in size between them, realizing that everything about her seemed miniature in comparison to him.

He watched her fingers casually upon his armor, not touching in curiosity this time but in comfort and trust. She wanted him to know that it was safe to talk about his past and that she had no other intention but to just listen and learn. As his eyes drifted to hers, he could see that she wished to know more about him. She didn't want him to be another unknown soldier who was forgotten. When she said she wanted to learn his language and remember him, he understood now just how true her words had been.

Taking a breath, Jas decided to answer her question because it was easier to talk about Gan than it was to think about her and the affects she had on him. "Gan was our training sergeant. He used to tell us about how we were men, good men, forced into a soldier's life by genetics. He trained us and prepared us for war. He taught us everything we know…"

Jas suddenly felt his words drop away and was confused because Gan didn't teach them everything. He never taught them about the nagging hunger that he had begun to feel, and it wasn't a hunger that came from lack of food. Jas had never felt it before, but it was growing more and more every time he allowed himself to be closer to…her. Locking his eyes with the young princess' blue irises, Jas felt the churning inside him, the growing need to be close to her, to touch her. It was the same feeling that he had earlier, after he mended her leg, but the feeling had grown stronger since then. He didn't know if it was wrong to feel it and he feared that it would do nothing but distract him from the purpose of the mission.

Forcing his eyes away from her, Jas glanced at his brothers and knew that he needed to divert himself from this feeling of hunger. He looked within him for his box with the lock on it and knew that he had no choice but to lock these odd feelings away. They were too dangerous to be left free, and he nearly succumbed to them earlier. If not for Dusty and Gath's interference, he might have done something or acted in some way he would have regretted. Now he wished to act upon those feelings once again, and he knew that if he did, it would compromise the mission in ways that would never be able to be undone.

Arlesse could not feel Jas tensing under the armor beneath her hand, but she saw it as his body stiffened and his jaw set firmly. She had no idea what caused it, and she took her hand away from his arm to glance around her. She thought maybe he sensed some danger or caught sight of another predator. When she looked back to him, she realized that it was not an external battle he fought but one within and that he had decided he needed to close off from her. Arlesse wondered what she had done wrong, what she had said or asked, but she knew that Jas had just changed and transformed before her. The gentle man that lived beneath the armor, the man who was in the midst of telling her about his past had disappeared and only a duty-driven soldier looked at her now.

Arlesse decided it was best to not question his change. Instead, she stepped from him and began pulling the fruit off the shrub they stood by, looking for something to do to keep herself from feeling the disappointment that filled her. Her imagination always carried her away on some fantasy that didn't exist, and she wondered if she would ever learn that the kindness of a man didn't mean he was interested in her. She closed her eyes and forced down the lump that threatened to form in her throat. She couldn't feel this way about a man she had known for only a day. It was nothing more than her silly, immature fantasies taking over once more. They always seemed to alter reality around her so that she thought there was an interest, yet once again, it was merely her imagination playing games with her emotions.

Opening her eyes, Arlesse strengthened her resolve to fight the immaturity that compromised her too many times in the past. She instead concentrated on the task of working free the ripe fruit and distracted her irrational thoughts by explaining to Jas her reason for gathering the brightly colored produce. "RubyFruit will compliment the Fang-bird well. Save the larger ones for later, and I'll make them into dessert."

Jas moved around the shrub to the opposite side of her where he could watch both his brothers and the princess. He saw that she had cradled her arm before her and was filling in the crook around her body with the fruit. Jas took off his shoulder piece for them to place within it whatever fruit they picked. Looking up for a moment, his eyes glanced between his brothers and the young woman that was his mission objective. Moments ago, he was no longer certain where his priority belonged, and that had begun to scare him in ways he didn't understand. Now that he had locked those odd emotions and thoughts away, he could concentrate again on keeping the princess safe and getting out of the forest alive with his brothers.

While the two of them picked the fruit, neither of them had seen Dusty watching them as he continued to work on getting the fire started to cook the Fang-bird. He took a long moment to observe Jas and the princess, and at first he thought nothing of it beyond Jas taking the initiative to keep her protected. Then, he saw the stiffness in the way Jas held himself and he knew exactly what that meant. When he looked to the princess, there was no mistaking the disappointment that reflected in her eyes.

_Jas, you're a_, di'kut, Dusty thought silently, and he regretted now interrupting his brother and the princess when he and Gath had returned with the water. He was foolish to think that Jas wouldn't put up his defenses at the first sign that his untested emotions would surface. It was all Jas knew when he was overwhelmed because it was what Gan had taught him for his coping mechanism. Unfortunately, Gan never taught them that sometimes it wasn't necessary to use that mechanism and sometimes being overwhelmed was a good thing. Dusty knew this because a couple months ago he had been caught between the conflict of doing his duty and learning about what the Kaminoans never taught them. Dusty, however, decided to bend the rules and take the chance most of his brothers, the ones in Crimson and the ones elsewhere in the galaxy, would never know.

Watching the timber spark and the fire come to life, Dusty decided that he was not about to allow Jas the luxury of simply walking away from this mission regretting the one thing about it that might matter most in his shortened life. They only lived once and only for the fraction of time that most species survived. It was time to bend the rules and take the opportunities to know what it's like to be normal, even if it would only be for a single kriffing moment.


	10. Chapter 9

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again for the reviews and for the interest! I'm encouraged to make certain the tale is told in its entirety, and I will be posting a special companion piece to this chapter very soon.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 9**

_The other squads had called us the Reject Squad practically from the moment the Kaminoans had released us from our incubation pods. They couldn't understand how we could argue and fight amongst ourselves so consistently. I guess when you're told you're a reject often enough, at some point you begin to believe it. I can't say when exactly it happened, but we realized that if we were going to be considered rejects, then we would be sure to use it to our advantage. It didn't take us long to learn how to bend the rules and show our superiors they were wrong. More importantly, we specialized in proving _how _our superiors were wrong_.  
RC-1168 (Dusty) reminiscing about his time in the GAR

**Tochin Moon III  
784 Days ABG**

Tearing off another remnant of meat from the carcass of the Fang-bird, Mouse decided that their impromptu cuisine was just far too precious to waste. He picked up a RubyFruit slice and placed both the meat and the fruit in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. _Les'ika_ had wanted to make a sauce or at least a paste for them to dip the meat in, but they had no way to mash the fruit and no bowl to contain it within so they sliced up the large berries instead and ate them in conjunction with the Fang-bird. It was the best they could do to contain the wild taste of the meat, but Mouse could think of far less appetizing foods to eat and was glad to have the flightless avian instead.

As for the Fang-bird, their only recourse was to build a spit and set a fire beneath it. Unfortunately, it was a long and tedious task because they needed to rotate the bird every few minutes to keep it from burning, and what none of them really calculated was that it took nearly four hours to get the bird roasted thoroughly and cooked fully.

Still, Mouse decided that four hours was a short time to wait for a real meal, as opposed to running out of ration cubes and resorting to eating bark and insects. He would do what he needed to survive, but he doubted that _Les'ika_ would survive on a meal like that. So, at least they would have their ration cubes last just that much longer. Thinking that it was best that they saved their ration cubes for emergencies, Mouse came to the conclusion that he would take it upon himself to hunt regularly at every opportunity he could. Even though he and his brothers had no problems living off the land, it was fairly obvious that the princess never had such an experience.

In fact, Mouse had to stop himself from chuckling earlier as he watched _Les'ika_ try to carefully tear off a small section of the bird with her fingers. She tried to be delicate and polite, pinching the meat as though it was something she hadn't ever done before in her life, and he could see that she was just wishing she had access to eating utensils. It was at that point, Dusty tore into the breast of the bird and handed her a large chunk of the meat.

She had taken it graciously and apologized for being excessively disciplined with her manners. Dusty simply nudged her shoulder gently with his knuckles and explained to her the difference between civilized eating and survival eating. And, the difference merely was whether she wanted to die from hunger with her fingers still clean or live satisfied with a bit of food under her nails. She had no other response but a bashful smile, and even that had loosened a smile out of Gath.

Strangely, Mouse noted, Jas was unusually quiet and withdrawn during the entire exchange, and he knew that could only mean one thing: Jas had buried within himself because something was bothering him.

It wasn't the first time Jas had done this, but Mouse was never one to pry and had decided that it wasn't his business to ask questions. If his brother needed some time to clear his head, then it was for the better. If he was distracted too much, it could lead to disaster, and that was something he decided they didn't need.

Taking another bite of the Fang-bird's meat, Mouse found his attention on the sun dropping deeper over the tree line and knew that night was moving in quickly. The bluish tint of the evening was swiftly giving way to the darkness that would cover the forest, and he still had to get the carcass buried soon so that it wouldn't attract any unnecessary attention from the local wildlife. It would be extremely amateurish of them to be torn apart alive in the middle of the night because of some animal seeking the remnants of a meal.

Mouse gave the Fang-bird a final once over, content that they had cleaned it well enough and there was only minimal waste. The animal's sacrifice had not been pointless, as even killing it was to prevent further endangerment to the princess. Mouse decided that he had to get moving and take the carcass for a decent walk to be buried, but his curiosity was suddenly piqued when _Les'ika_ picked up one of the half-dozen large, thin sticks she had gathered earlier and skewered a large-sized RubyFruit onto the tip of the stick.

Before Mouse could question it, Dusty asked, "What are you doing?"

The princess continued with her work, using each of the remaining five sticks to stab more of the RubyFruit. When she was done, she had six skewered pieces of fruit and a large pile of untouched fruit awaiting their seeming execution.

"I thought the least I could do for everything you've all done for me was make dessert. It's not much, but it's one way I could thank you," she explained as her eyes came around to each of them.

Dusty noted, though, that her eyes moved quickest past Jas than they had the rest of them. He glanced over at his brother, aware of how Jas was exhibiting the rigidity of a soldier who took his mission seriously. He actually made Gath seem easy-going, and that was not an easy feat to accomplish.

"Ma'am, it's not necessary," Gath said, shaking his head. "We're just following orders."

Arlesse sighed as she brought one of the skewers to the fire and set it carefully in the flame. She could only think of that poor soldier who gave his life for hers and how she never had the chance to thank him. "I made the mistake once of not offering my gratitude when I should have. I won't allow that to happen again."

Jas brought his eyes to her, knowing that regardless of everything he told her earlier, she would carry that trooper's life with her forever. Their nameless brother would not be forgotten, and she would see to it that she never failed to remember the man who sacrificed himself for her safety. He wondered if she would remember the rest of them just as strongly when they finally got her home. Then, he closed down the thought and decided it wasn't worth it to speculate over someone that he knew would never cross paths with them again.

Arlesse rotated the skewer in the fire carefully, seeming to watch the fruit as it touched the flames. She kept it moving so it would not burn, but her actions gave the impression that she had done this process before. She let a small smile touch her lips, and her shyness about something became obvious.

"I'm sure that you'll see me as nothing but a petty and silly girl, but I would like to share with you a moment of my past," she quietly offered.

"I love to hear civilian stories," Dusty smiled. "It makes me grateful that I'm not one of them."

Arlesse laughed gently and was glad that these soldiers wouldn't mind hearing about her privileged childhood. She looked quickly amongst them, trying to not be disheartened by Jas' seeming lack of interest. "When I was a child, I had a bad habit of sneaking sweets. Udi was the palace cook at that time of my youth, and she caught me one day when I was about nine years old trying to hide a small cake under my nightgown and sneak it out of the kitchen for a late night snack. I thought for certain that I was in trouble, and when my father would find out I would lose my nightly dessert for a week. Instead of telling my father, though, Udi sat me down before one of the fire ovens and handed me a skewered RubyFruit. She worked with me for an hour, teaching me exactly how to heat it just right."

Arlesse then pulled the fruit from the flame and removed the stick, putting it aside to cool. Picking up another one, she did the same, being very careful about how much heat the fruit received. "Udi and I made up a dozen or so of these treats that night. She told me that the trick was to heat them just enough and then set them aside for about ten minutes to cool."

"Where was Udi when we were kids?" Dusty asked. "Could have used a cook who didn't believe in only serving high protein meals with little flavor."

The princess took the second RubyFruit from the flame and set it aside as well. Working down the line, she took another of the fruited sticks and heated it above the fire.

"By the sounds of it, Udi would have made sure none of us would have been thin enough to fit in our armor," Mouse said as he watched the next RubyFruit cook. He intently studied how it changed in color from bright orange to a very deep red.

After a few more minutes, Arlesse brought the third stick from the fire and set it aside. She lifted the first fruit she had cooked and handed it to Gath. It had cooled enough now that it could be eaten without causing any burns.

Gath took the fruit from her and examined it for a brief moment. He found it curious that the skin remained smooth and didn't wrinkle or peel.

"Cooked fruit usually becomes mushy and fragile," Arlesse explained, "RubyFruit, though, when heated gets preserved like a piece of candy that you can eat weeks later if you want. The skin becomes a protective coating that holds in the jellied center, and the hole from the skewer seals itself as it cools."

Skeptically, Gath took a bite of the candied fruit. The pulp inside had cooked to the consistency of soft taffy, and the skin outside had sealed in the sugary candy. He rolled the sweet, gooey substance around in his mouth, trying to compare it to anything he had ever eaten before. However, Crimson Squad was not given very many opportunities to enjoy civilian cuisine, and when they had, it usually didn't include any kind of dessert.

Arlesse set another RubyFruit into the fire. "It's completely healthy candy because all the vitamins and nourishments are preserved, and it's the only fruit I have ever heard of that can be cooked within its own skin without losing its texture."

Gath smiled now as he swallowed down the fruity and sugary substance. It was how he imagined the nectar of hive-combs would taste, only with more of a citrus flavor. "That's very clever, and very good."

Dusty was offered the next one and as he took it, he asked, "So what ever happened after you and Udi made these? Did your father ever find out?"

Arlesse gave the next one to Mouse as she replied, "Udi told me to hide the stash we had made for when I wanted something sweet but knew it was off-limits. She never betrayed to anyone our late night cooking session. In fact, some mornings when I would awaken early, she would allow me to help her with preparing the breakfast cakes, too. Udi probably rehabilitated me from a life of crime before it even had a chance to develop."

With that Dusty laughed. He rubbed the top of _Les'ika_'s head, showing a moment of pride over her amusing comment. "See, you can be witty. You just needed a little practice."

Arlesse felt her cheeks warm up at the compliment, but it was short-lived. She realized that she had not provided one of the candies yet to Jas and as she handed it to him, she tried not to dwell on his detachment. He took the candy quickly but politely from her, seeming to look at anything but the princess.

Bringing her attention back to the other soldiers, Arlesse told them, "If you want, we can cook a bunch of these tonight and we won't have to rely solely on the rations. These will keep in your packs as long you wait until they're fully cooled."

"Do you cook anything else?" Dusty asked, as his question was formed around a mouthful of RubyFruit.

Arlesse shook her head. "Other than a couple variants of breakfast cakes and the RubyFruit, no. After Udi passed away, the new cook never let me near the kitchens, no matter how much I asked. His philosophy was that I should be worrying about laws and history, not how long it takes dough to rise or what the ingredients are that make up a vegetable sauce."

Mouse nodded gratefully in acknowledgement, taking another RubyFruit from the communal pile that Arlesse had started making while she continued to cook the rest of their stash. "You did good, _Les'ika_. I'll put in an unlimited order for these treats."

"We'll pick some more tomorrow and I'll cook them every evening," she promised as her smile matched the brightness of the fire's flame. She finally felt like she was good for something and not just a burden with no usefulness. She had decided that if she had to earn her keep by making these men candy, then it was a minor price to pay for their troubles and risks.

Jas was aware now how _Les'ika_ smiled in the glow of the fire, and he saw that she was proud of herself for having done something constructive. She had creatively found a way to thank them for saving her, and he could see that it eased her burdens of feeling insignificant.

As the fire flickered in the darkening evening, Jas couldn't help but notice how it reflected off her untamed curls and shone in her blue eyes. He knew he was viewing her as much more than the political pawn they were ordered to extract from the Separatist's minions. His emotions continued to betray the fact that she was merely their mission objective. As her smile competed with the brightness of the fire, Jas could feel the warmth seeping into his chest, and the confusion he fought so hard to control threatened to break free from his mental box.

He watched helplessly as _Les'ika_'s eyes came around to him, and the warmth in his chest dared to smash the bolt on his locked case. Jas caught himself trying to find some way to keep the light in her eyes and the smile on her face, but he knew it was far too dangerous to consider.

"_Les'ika_…" he paused, as the warmth became that nagging hunger again, and he knew he had to stop it before it overtook him. Shutting everything down, he simply nodded. "Thank you."

Arlesse felt her smile fade suddenly at Jas' quick and casual reply. She saw for the briefest of moments that the softness in his eyes had returned and there was the chance that he would end his detachment. She had the faintest hope that whatever had shut Jas down and pushed her away had passed and that he would again be the man she met on the mercenary's ship who held her hand and made her stronger in ways she didn't think was possible.

Then, he changed again as though a switch had been touched, and the kind and gentle man disappeared, leaving only the duty-driven soldier in his place. Turning from Jas, Arlesse brought her eyes to the encampment's fire instead. The dancing flames, for all their deadly potential, were easier to watch than the aloofness that had become Jas' way of looking at her.

"We're heading out first thing in the morning," Gath explained as he popped another RubyFruit in his mouth, savoring the sweetness of the taffy-like substance. "Mouse is on first watch, Jas on second, and Dusty on third. I'm pulling rank and sleeping in."

"No sleep until you bury the carcass," Mouse teased.

"Wouldn't have to bury it if you didn't kill it," Gath replied. "It's your mess."

"You're another ungrateful _di'kut_," Mouse grumbled without real anger, as he grabbed the Fang-bird's remains and began to bury it a safe distance away.

Gath simply laughed and laid himself on the ground. He was amazed how different he felt now that he had a genuine meal in him and a decent dessert to follow. Maybe the mission wouldn't turn out so bad after all.

He had seen Jas finally take command of himself again and noticed that his brother was back to thinking about the mission. Apparently, the closeness he shared with the princess earlier in the day had been nothing more than a fleeting moment, and his brother's curiosity had passed.

Gath was relieved to see that the situation had straightened itself out. He knew that a relationship was not only against the protocols of the mission, but it was also against the protocols of being a clone. He didn't want to see Jas burned because of affections that might not get returned, and the last thing he wanted was Jas in some kind of punishment for sharing affections that were illegal between the status of a clone and a princess.

Content now that the mission was back to normal, Gath concentrated on feeling the fullness and warmth in his stomach from the satisfying meal. No longer worried that he would have to intervene between Jas and the princess, Gath let his exhaustion take him into the deep sleep he waited all day to finally enjoy because right now, the blissful rest was the only thing he needed. As his consciousness faded, he realized that he didn't even care about the conversation that was taking place while he rested.

"Can I ask what…dee-koot means?" Arlesse asked, not looking at anyone in particular as she continued to keep herself busy with preparing more RubyFruit candy.

Dusty raised an eyebrow at the princess and her curiosity. "What use would you have for the _Mando'a_ language?"

Her eyes flicked to Jas for a brief second, but he remained in his stony posture. When she looked to Dusty, she explained, "I want a way to remember you all. Jas taught me that _vode_ means brothers, and the trooper who was killed taught me that _kotyc_ means strong."

"Oh, idiot," Dusty said.

Arlesse felt suddenly taken aback and she was mortified that she might have just insulted him. She shook her head in apology. "I'm sorry. I just…"

Dusty laughed again. "I didn't insult you, _Les'ika_. _Di'kut_ means an idiot, someone who's a waste. That cook of yours who won't let you near the kitchen, he'd be a _di'kut_."

"Oh," she smiled, feeling foolish.

"If you want, I could teach you a whole _new_ vocabulary."

"Don't you dare taint the girl's innocence, _shabuir_," Mouse warned as he came back and sat before the fire again.

"Fine, you do it then," Dusty replied as he stood up. He walked by Jas, gently tapping him twice on the shoulder armor, using their personal signal that he needed him to accompany him for a private conversation.

Jas took a quick glance around the campfire and Mouse nodded, acknowledging that he would be all right with keeping an eye on the princess and Gath.

Dusty and Jas stepped about ten yards away from the campfire and Dusty settled onto a downed tree. He brought one of the RubyFruit candies to his mouth and savored the sweet flavor.

Jas found a tree stump opposite of Dusty and sat upon it. "What's with the stealth? Are you planning a surprise party for Gath or something?"

Dusty smiled as he looked back at the camp. _Les'ika_ and Mouse exchanged a few words, and he saw that Mouse had just explained to her what a _shabuir_ was, followed by _sharal_, which meant lazy. Dusty found it funny that Gath slept blissfully unaware for probably the first time in his life, and if he had been awake, he would probably have found some excuse to stop the private _Mando'a_ lessons they were now giving to an _aruetii_, an outsider.

Looking at Jas, Dusty had decided it was time to confront his brother and get him to see the opportunity that was being wasted before him. "Remember back a few months ago when we were on Denon and we had to get that intel on Barl Nusset and his bio-weapon?"

"Of course, I do," Jas replied. "You had Gath pacing for half the night wondering at what point he should give the order to go in and extract you. Somehow your communications had gotten shut off, and we were going insane with worry about you. Gath immediately wanted to recon your position and go find you, but I tried to reason that maybe it was just a glitch and the link would come back in a few minutes. I told him that there was nothing in your conversations that indicated you were in any kind of distress. Mouse wouldn't admit he was worried, but he began calibrating every weapon he could find and when there was nothing left to calibrate, he started rewiring a set of comlinks he found lying around."

Smirking at the idea of his brothers in a panic and wishing he could have had it all recorded, Dusty forced himself back to the point of his private conversation with Jas. "You had communications surveillance on that mission. What do you remember of the informant they arranged for me to meet?"

"Considering I never saw her and only heard the conversations, I just know that she was pretty taken in with this near-obsessive need to give you a normal night…whatever that was supposed to mean. The entire situation was just damn near strange, and I couldn't help feeling that I was glad it was you they chose instead of me. I wouldn't have been so tolerant of her games."

Dusty laughed and let his memories drift back to that night for a moment. He thought about the informant, Cerina Browlin, the woman who had arranged their meeting to provide the necessary information on Nusset's location. He doubted Cerina Browlin truly was the woman's name, and he was fairly certain that she had altered her appearance as much as Dusty had. It would have been far too dangerous for her to walk around as a broker of information and have everyone know who she was. Briefly, Dusty wondered what had happened to the beautiful brown-eyed, redheaded woman he had known for only the duration of one Denon evening.

"She was attractive," Dusty said almost dreamily, "Very easy to look at, and she wore this perfume that I just couldn't ignore…"

Jas grumbled, growing impatient with his brother. "You're being pointless. If you want to daydream about some woman, you can do that without me around."

Dusty felt his juvenile smile fade and brought his mind back to the present. "You're right. What she looked like and how she smelled is irrelevant. But, do you understand at all what Cerina was trying to do for me?"

"She was dragging her feet with giving you the information we needed to handle that job." Jas then moved to stand up. "I don't know why you pulled me aside to discuss a mission we completed months ago anyway. It's not even classified, and you could have easily talked about this in front of the others."

Dusty grabbed his brother's arm and jerked him back down. "You need to pay attention to the details, _ner vod_. Let me finish and you'll see what I'm talking about."

Jas sighed and reluctantly settled back down. He folded his arms across his chest, trying to be patient, but not really wanting to hear about a past mission that was done and filed as completed.

Dusty wondered just how innocent and dense Jas truly was. He shook his head, feeling a stupid grin on his face he thought about Cerina and what exactly had happened that night. Grateful to be away from the light of the campfire, Dusty was also glad Jas couldn't see the flush on his face as his mind quickly reminded him of the things she had done with him.

"Do you know why I shut off the communications?" he asked finally.

At that, Jas glared angrily at his brother. "You shut off your own comlink in the middle of a mission? You _dini'la shabuir_! You could have been in trouble, and we would never have known."

Dusty remained calm, seeming to be unfazed by his brother's outburst and kept his eyes on Jas. Calling him an insane jerk was mild compared to the other insults Dusty had been called by others. "Think real hard now. What was the last thing you heard before the comlink shut out?"

"What is your problem?" Jas grumbled. "Just tell me why you would do something so stupid."

"You still don't get it, do you, _ner vod_?" Dusty asked, forcing Jas to have to think about it. He wasn't just going to freely give up the truth of that night. His brother had to see it for himself in order to understand his own predicament.

Jas considered more carefully the events of that mission and, more specifically, the dealings of that night. He took a moment to replay in this mind the conversations and background sounds he heard on the comlink feed. He remembered that Dusty's positioning device didn't move from the apartment's location, and he had considered the possibility that maybe Dusty and Cerina were conversing about how best to infiltrate the underground bunker. Of course, there was also the nagging concern that Dusty was already dead and his body was just lying there.

After a couple minutes, though, Jas began to piece together the realization of what Dusty was confessing. None of the other members of Crimson had the opportunity to actually see the informant's face except for Dusty, and when he had agreed to meet with her, it was arranged for an expensive dinner in an upscale restaurant followed by Dusty walking her to an apartment not far from there. As Dusty's solo mission began to make more and more sense, Jas finally understood why Dusty had disappeared from the comlink feed for over two hours.

Jas remembered now that when Dusty had finally caught up with Crimson later in that night, he seemed…different, somehow experienced in a new way. Jas had thought it was just because Dusty had been able to handle what should have been an intelligence agent's mission on his own and was in a satisfied mood about it, but now he was certain it was something else entirely.

Dusty smiled at his brother, watching some new realization pass over his face. "Do you want me to spell it out or draw you a picture, _ner vod_?"

Jas just gave his brother a look, watching the smirk form on Dusty's face, and then Jas finally understood. "I'm going to assume you were both consenting and willing then."

Dusty sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes gently. "You're completely missing the point. It had nothing to do with the actual act of what we did. It's about taking a chance, a risk on something you may only experience once in your life."

"I was right," Jas complained as he got up again. "You're being pointless, and you don't need to brag to me about some enjoyment you shared with a female."

This time Dusty wasn't going to just let Jas walk away until he understood exactly the point he wanted to make. He stood up and put his hand on his brother's shoulder, stopping him abruptly from walking away.

"Listen to me," he argued softly. "We don't get opportunities. We're not supposed to – remember, flesh droids and all. And, I'm not telling you what to do. But, when I realized the opportunity I had waiting before me and that I could bend those rules just a little to take that chance, I didn't hesitate. What Cerina offered me was a moment in time I'll never forget. I didn't care then and I don't care now that Gath would have killed me if he knew what I was really doing. All I knew was that I was part of the Reject Squad. That was all I needed to give me permission to bend and break the rules as I saw fit. I decided in that fraction of a second that I was not about to have my short life pass by an opportunity because some Kaminoan scientist didn't put it in my flash training. I got to experience something with Cerina most of our brothers will never now, whether they live long enough or not."

"Why are you confessing this to me now?" Jas questioned, not sure why he hadn't just walked away and ignored Dusty.

"Because there's an opportunity waiting for you, _ner vod_."

Jas brushed off Dusty's hand now and turned to face the camp as though to return to it. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Dusty sighed and grasped his brother's shoulder plate again, his eyes watching _Les'ika_ just as carefully as his brother's were. "You shut her out, didn't you, _ner vod_? You locked her away like she's some aggravation on the mission that is distracting you. I know it's what you do to get through when you're confused or unfocused. You've shut me out at times, but I'm used to it."

Jas realized then that his attention was on _Les'ika_, watching as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders now and listened to something Mouse was telling her. She smiled suddenly, and Jas felt like a glowlamp had been turned on in his chest.

"You need to decide if you want to take the chance on knowing something before you die or if you can walk away and question it for the rest of your life. She's your opportunity, _ner vod_, and if you get your moment, will you waste it or seize it?" With that, Dusty said his peace and moved away from his brother.

Jas remained standing where he was for a number of long minutes. Even after Dusty had returned to the camp, Jas decided to stay in the dark, safely away from everyone. He mulled over the conversation Dusty had with him, and he didn't understand how his brother could not be fearful of the repercussions of his actions with Cerina.

Watching _Les'ika_ cook the last of the RubyFruit and share it generously with his brothers, Jas felt the whirlwind of confusion surround him. As he thought about the princess and their short time together, he had come to the conclusion that it was more than just an incomprehensible attraction that developed quickly. Earlier when she spoke of her childhood moment, he had been listening to every word she spoke and was glad to see that she had been spared from punishment, much like _Ba'vodu_ Gan had done for them. It led him to believe that maybe she wasn't so different from them, despite her ranking in a sophisticated society.

Watching her eyes shine in the distance and reflect the humor that his brothers were providing, Jas thought of her touch and the honest compassion that radiated in her plain, blue irises. After a moment, _Les'ika_'s smile turned into a genuine laugh as Mouse and Dusty traded their usual collection of insults while they shared their stories. The hunger that Jas had thought was safely locked away in his mental box was trying to break free, and he struggled again with keeping it there. Jas had thought that he had finally gotten himself and those rampant emotions under control, but Dusty now had gone and shattered that control into new shards of confusion.


	11. Chapter 10

_Author's Notes_: Thanks so much for being entertained with my tale! It truly means a lot to me to hear from those who read my work. Your comments help me to improve my writing and challenge me to push myself. A good example of how I pushed my skills is _Republic Commando: Civilian Interlude_, the companion piece to this story. If you have further interest in Dusty, I recommend you read it. ;-)

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 10**

_We found wreckage belonging to a ship that matched the ownership signatures from the bounty hunter, Qotan Hazar. It was found approximately one hundred and twelve miles west of the Tochin Grand Palace. By the scattering of the pieces and the burned damage it sustained, we can only assume that the ship had broken up upon entering the atmosphere. Sadly, we regret to inform you that there was no sign of survivors. However, the investigation crew did find broken seals from what could have been an escape pod. Unfortunately, the wreckage was too far destroyed to discern exactly how long ago those seals were broken and if an escape pod had been launched recently._  
CC-2341, known as "Tarj," reporting to King Vollan Psach and the Republic Liaison, Jedi Knight Paxa Tener

**Tochin Moon III  
785 Days ABG**

Arlesse awoke to the sound of the wildlife softly chittering amongst themselves. She heard songs from the birds that she never had before. Their musical pitches ran through scales and notes as though they were part of some vast symphony that the forest performed regularly. She decided to lie in her blankets for a few minutes longer, allowing herself to get lost in the harmony and the accompaniment. Suddenly, she was struck with the realization that she would never be permitted the freedom to hear this kind of concert ever again.

Eyes blinking against the early morning sunlight, Arlesse tried not to dwell on the sights and sounds that would no longer exist to her after the men of Crimson Squad return her home. She had lived her entire life within the confines of her father's palace, and she had never wanted to venture into the unknown before. But, as her time with these soldiers prolonged further, she wanted nothing more than to enjoy every moment of this newfound freedom for all it was worth. She knew that she would never have survived these forests by herself, and if not for the Republic soldiers who were entrusted with her care, she would have perished days ago.

Lifting her head and sitting up, Arlesse scanned her eyes over the sleeping Republic soldiers wondering yet again if there would ever be any way to properly provide them the gratitude they deserved for everything they had done for her and the galaxy. Rubbing her eyes gently, Arlesse felt the thickness of humidity building into the air, and she was reminded that they would have another long day ahead of them. She didn't know how many miles they had traveled so far, and she wasn't certain she wanted to know how many more were left. She had decided that it was easier to just put one foot in front of the other rather than try to mentally track what could be an overwhelming distance.

Suddenly locking irises with Gath and noting that he was the only one of the four who was awake, Arlesse came to the conclusion that he had apparently acquired the necessary rest he needed and then took over for Dusty's shift. When he dropped his gaze from her, she took a few minutes to observe their camp. She saw that the fire from the night before was nothing but some smoldering embers, the firewood long burned to ash. The rest of Crimson all slept with their helmets on their heads and their hands on their weapons, and she found that she couldn't decipher which of the three soldiers was which. With the lack of the blue glow in the visor plate, they all looked like warrior droids from another world, another planet, and they were just awaiting some kind of directive to reactivate and begin wreaking warfare.

Gathering the blanket around her shoulders, Arlesse realized that she could never think of these good and honest men as droids. They showed her more compassion and kindness than most of the inhabitants of her father's palace. These men laughed with her and shared in her presence with genuine interest. She knew that she could easily believe it was because they just had no other choice, but last night she could feel the camaraderie amongst them. It was the kind of energy that gave her a sense of comfort and belonging.

She only wished that Jas hadn't been so distant, so closed off…and she suddenly shifted her thoughts from him. He had decided that distancing himself was what he needed to do, and Arlesse had to accept that. She shouldn't have been quite so aggressive in her interest about him. Jas was only being respectful to her, and she took it too far, forcing him away. After all, he wasn't the first man who had no interest in her, and she just had to cope the way she always had. She would create a mental barrier out of her loneliness and hide behind it where her emotions could not touch her and her fantasies were not permitted to enter. It was how she handled herself every time that Caspan avoided her at all the royal functions. It was how she dealt with being forced to share a dance with a member of her father's court who looked about the other guests instead of at her.

Arlesse was aware that she didn't have the comforts of her garden or her flimsiplast novels to help her hide this time, but she had the distraction of the world around her. She would not pass by the wildlife and remain oblivious to the creatures and plants she had never seen so free and uncultivated before. She would listen to every sound and bathe in every color. In just a matter of days, she would be home again, and Jas would be reassigned to a new mission anyway. It would be no different than Caspan spending the evening with some baroness on his arm or one of the many other women that seemed attached to his side.

Clearing her mind from the men that she had been exposed to in her life, Arlesse decided to handle the morning routine while it was still quiet. She stood and let her eyes catch Gath's, watching him nod silently to her as he knew not to question her disappearances, especially the ones consistent with particular times of the day. She knew that by the time she would return to the camp, Gath would have the others awake and before long, they would be ready to begin their journey once again.

--- --- --- --- --- ---

By mid-morning, the group had managed to travel another five miles, and this time there was no incident with snakes or woodland creatures. That alone, had allowed them to cross some of the extra distance that they had lost from the day before. Gath had figured that the princess could maybe push seven miles a day if they really needed. She was able to get three miles without too much exhaustion, but by the time they got to four, she needed more frequent breaks and more water. He attributed some of her extra vigor today to the breakfast she had brought them.

Earlier in the day when Arlesse had returned to the camp after her routine departure, she had with her an armful of dark purple fruit, each the size of a fist. The men of Crimson had been disappointed that it wasn't RubyFruit she carried this time, but she had cheerfully explained that the Plumrinds were more filling and would serve a better purpose for their breakfast than the RubyFruit.

Skeptically, the soldiers eyed the dark purple orbs. She took her Plumrind and peeled off the thick rind, sectioning off the dark green fruit beneath.

Dusty and Mouse had made comments that it looked like one of the most unappetizing foods they had ever seen and that a ration cube almost seemed more appealing. Mouse offered to hunt down another Fang-bird, and even cook the meat of a Pallid Viper if one came into their path again.

Arlesse had not taken offense at their complaints, laughing instead at how their reactions mirrored her own on many occasions. She agreed that she had her preferred dishes, and whenever the cook tried to change something or try something new, she was always skeptical. She even admitted that most of the time, she didn't like the changes and the cook grew increasingly frustrated with her. So when Dusty had bitten into the fruit and didn't change his opinion about his initial observations, Arlesse was sympathetic. She understood that it was difficult to appreciate that the Plumrinds had a minty taste and required more chewing than was imagined it would need despite all the juice within them. Beneath the minted flavor was a hint of wood, making the taste nothing like the sweet fruit all of them would have preferred.

Arlesse explained to them that Plumrind was usually mashed into a spread and eaten with sweetened bread; however, its nutrients were rich and would give them the minerals and energy they needed to get their day started. She even told them that it was one of the dishes most requested by the members of the Law and Trial Committee whenever they had a big assessment. Again, Udi's lessons had educated her because she was able to tell the soldiers that RubyFruit was better suited for a between-meal nutrient and a supplemental substance for later in the day. Plumrinds, on the other hand, would boost their energy quickly to get them initially going and then the nutrients would level off after a couple hours.

Jas, as usual, had kept to himself and did not offer much to the group. He ate his Plumrind in silence, not even hinting as to whether he liked or disliked its flavor. He maintained his civility, remembering to politely thank the princess for thinking about all of them when she ventured out earlier in the day to get the Plumrinds.

His mind was still elsewhere, though, lost in the conversation he shared with Dusty the night before. Jas couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal whenever he thought about Dusty's confessions. Jas wasn't ready to accept the fact that Dusty had purposefully turned off his communications device during a mission. He thought he knew his brother, but it seemed that Dusty had developed a way of holding secrets and going beyond the mere practice of bending rules. He had deliberately put his life in danger, and after really thinking about it, he had put the lives of all his clone brethren in jeopardy. Had something happened to him that night with Cerina and the vital information about Nusset's lair was lost, the entire Clone Army could have ceased to exist.

Jas did what he could to mask his resentment, but he knew he just couldn't hide it entirely. He continued to wrestle over whether he should bring his growing concerns to Gath about Dusty's questionable behaviors, but it would be entirely unfair to make Gath worry about that when he had other priorities right now. Dredging up the past was not going to help protect the princess, and Gath was determined that they didn't breach any more protocols to get her home.

Thinking about _Les'ika_, Jas was reminded again about the confusion that had started anew last night every time Jas so much as looked at her. His mental box was banging around his head, demanding to be opened, but Jas knew he could not give in to that temptation. He was distracted enough by his own confusion. He would only get himself – or worse yet – one of the others killed if he couldn't keep on the task of protecting the princess appropriately.

Bringing his concentration back to the present and forcing his stray thoughts into a mental box that was shrinking smaller with every moment, Jas realized that he had heard the sound of running water growing stronger in the distance. He knew that their canteens and bottles could use another topping off with the way _Les'ika_ had to hydrate so often, and he expected that Gath would allow them to take another respite as soon as they reached the water.

Breaking through a clearing in the forest, the gentle roar of the water had become significantly louder, and as they pushed through the last of the trees ahead of them, they saw a small waterfall that ran into a decent-sized lake. The perimeter of the lake was approximately fifty yards wide. The waterfall was only about twenty feet high and about four feet wide. The lake poured into a small creek that ran through the woods, and Jas surmised that it was probably the same creek Gath and Dusty had used the other day to supply their water.

Arlesse looked to the clear, blue water and stepped towards the bank. In the lake, she saw schools of small, reflective fish that changed shades of gray to reflect the sky above. Arlesse had expected the fish to mirror a bright blue sky, but when she looked up, she saw that the sunlight above was growing murky. The swirling clouds were growing thicker, and the blue of the sky was receding further into the distance. Turning her attention back to the lake, she saw pink flowers blooming in a patch within the water, seeming to float on the azure liquid. Flitting around those pink, goblet-shaped blossoms were numerous flutter-wings. Each one had a wide wingspan the size of Arlesse's open hands and sparkled in all the hues imaginable, and some even glittered in spectrums not discernable to the human eye. The six-legged, winged creatures resembled a moving rainbow of colors as they hovered about aimlessly from one flower to the next.

Shrubs outlined the lake on the right side with colorful blooms emitting fresh, sweet perfume. She recognized some of the flowers, as they were likenesses of the very same roses and daisies that had been planted in her garden. The difference, however, was that these flowers grew wild, in patterns along the ground and over the trees whereas her flowers were restricted to crawling up fences and being pruned to fit in designated spaces.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, glancing now at the multiple tones of green that made up the surrounding trees. "I don't think anyone even knows it's here."

Dusty and Mouse weren't as concerned with the beauty of the landscape but more with their need for water. They knelt on the ground and removed their helmets, leaning into the lake to wash their heads and faces.

Gath took off his helmet and brought his eyes upwards to the sky. He had decided that the distance they covered in the last few hours would be all they would get for the day. "There's a storm building, and we probably have a couple hours before it hits. It would be best to find some shelter."

"I'll look around," Jas offered as he immediately turned from the group and knew he could use the exploration of the land as an excuse to not be crowded around _Les'ika_ or Dusty right now. He still needed some breathing space, especially when his confusion seemed to be ever-present and refused to stay in the back of his mind. For a moment, Jas wished he could communicate with _Ba'vodu Gan_, just for some sense of comfort, if nothing else. Being ordered to run a drill in full gear or perform some feat of physical exertion on an obstacle course might be all he needed to get his thoughts back on the mission. And, hearing Sergeant Gan's voice might be the trigger he would need to resume being simply RC-1147, commando specialist.

As Jas began exploring the rocky outcrops that surrounded the waterfall, he was able to get his thoughts settled enough to study the land around him. His inspection led him to a naturally created opening in the rock that was large enough to accommodate a human's width with room to spare, but the height was a little tight as Jas and his brothers would have to duck slightly to get inside it. Bringing his Deece before him and turning on his helmet's spotlights, Jas ventured carefully into the cavern he had found, expecting something far worse than a Fangbird to attack him.

Other than a cluster of sparkling, blue moss and some finger-sized insects with more legs than he cared to count, the cavern was absent from any inhabitants. Guided by some instinct he didn't think he had, Jas was concerned about how these creatures might be unpleasant to the princess. Without realizing what he was doing, he simply grabbed at the multi-legged insects and started to gather them in his hands. There was luckily only a dozen or so, and he stomped out the nest from where more would emerge. Taking the wiggling creatures out of the cave, he threw them into a nearby bush, mentally warning them that if they dared to return, they would meet the same fate as the nest. To his surprise, the insects skittered into the leaves of the shrubbery, hiding within the safety of the plant, and he wondered why his thoughts and emotions couldn't be so obedient.

Entering into the cave again, Jas once more checked that nothing else had sneaked in while he was outside. Inventorying the approximate six-foot height of the ceiling and the seven-foot width of the walls, Jas caught violet sparkles in the rocky walls. He brought the visor closer to the rock so that he could inspect what was causing the sparkling phenomenon. His hand came forward to touch one of the glittering curves attached to the rock and realized that it was a small shell the size of his fingernail. He scratched at the shell, and it fell off the wall into his hand. The creature that had inhabited the shell was long gone, but the translucent violet shell could have been mistaken for an expensive jewel. Jas thought about tossing the shell onto the ground and forgetting about it, but he decided instead to keep it. He pulled a few more off the wall and slipped them into the small pouch on his belt, thinking that if nothing else, they might be suitable barter to use in one of the towns, if they ever got that far any time soon.

"On the east side of the waterfall is a cave," Jas reported as he came around from the newfound shelter. "We can…"

His words dropped away as he saw that one of the blankets that _Les'ika_ had been using to sleep in was draped over a low hanging branch. She stood behind it so that only her head, shoulders, and feet were visible, and Jas saw that her boots had been placed onto the ground near her feet. Her arms looked like they were folded before her as he could not see them, but her eyes were starting at the four men.

"I need a bath," she explained, speaking quickly so that no one could have a chance to interrupt her. "You said we had a couple hours before the storm comes. I won't need even that long. It's been days, and I just need a few minutes to relax my muscles and get refreshed. My hair is full of dirt and leaves…"

Jas saw the fabric of her dress fall past her shoulders, and he understood that she had been unlacing the bodice of the garment. He tried not to stare at her soft, pale skin or the way a handful of her curls had spilled over her shoulders, framing the necklace that plunged toward her collarbone.

"Ma'am, this is hardly the time or place…" Gath interrupted, trying to argue against the idea.

Gath's words had freed Jas from his memories of when he first looked upon the princess' necklace, and he pushed aside the distraction that her womanly features continued to cause him.

Upon hearing Gath's attempt to stop her, Arlesse placed her pantaloons on top of the blanket, and as she spoke, her voice was soft with confusion. "I don't understand how can you say that. This is the only place we've come across that is big enough, and I'm only asking to get clean. I'm not used to living in the same clothes every day, and I need something to make me feel…like me again."

"You could drown," Mouse told her, "Do you think your father wants your bloated carcass returned?"

"You could get bitten by something in the water," Gath now disputed, "And none of us can swim very well in this armor."

Arlesse pulled out of her dress and it, too, was now neatly hanging on the branch. She brought her eyes to the soldiers, unable to hide the pleading that she knew was shining in her irises. "I've never asked for anything from any of you other than to keep me safe. You've all done your jobs exceptionally well, and for that you have my undying gratitude. But…" she paused, suddenly trying to think how to word her thoughts so she would not be insulting, "I'm not a trained soldier, and I'm sorry I'm nothing but a privileged…"

"Fine. I'll do it," Dusty interrupted matter-of-factly, making sure to keep an eye on Jas' reaction, "I'll volunteer to strip down and guard her in the water."

Jas felt one of his hands suddenly clench tightly, feeling a surge of jealousy that only fueled the disappointment he was already feeling for his brother. Jas felt his eyes shift quickly to _Les'ika_, aware that with the _buy'ce_ on his head, neither Dusty nor _Les'ika_ could see his obvious reaction. Jas saw the princess lower her eyes, and he could see that she was skeptical about having one of her guardians so close to her while she would be entirely bare. Dusty, on the other hand, wasn't making any reaction, but then again, Dusty had known that Jas was struggling with the nagging hunger that he fought against feeling for the princess. Last night, Dusty had made it very clear that he had no desire to pursue _Les'ika_, and that Jas would be a _di'kut_ if he didn't. It still made Jas angry, though, how months ago Dusty had put the curiosity of sharing an intimate experience with a woman before the mission.

Gath rubbed a hand over his face trying to decide how best to proceed. After a couple moments, he sighed and instructed, "Dusty, stay on the shoreline and just remove your armor, but stay in your bodysuit. If she needs help, do what you need to. We'll put our buckets on and set them to infrared so we can give her some privacy. Once she's safely in the water, Dusty, you can remove your bucket, but put it back on as she exits."

Looking at the princess again, Gath finished, "Ma'am, I still don't agree with this, so be quick."

Arlesse took a moment to breathe, working up the nerve she thought she already had so that she could walk naked past these men. She wasn't so isolated to know that, even with an infrared image providing the heat signatures of her body, they could still discern more of her than she was certain she wanted to expose. In all her life, no man had viewed her in such a manner, and now she fought against the embarrassing panic of being seen that way. She had finally accepted their awareness for when she needed to handle the natural processes of her body, but this was a new challenge entirely.

Arlesse considered how Dusty and Mouse had somehow found room in their backpacks for the blankets that they had scavenged from Hazar's escape pod. She realized that she could always keep her undergarments on her while in the water and then just use one of those blankets to wrap tightly within after she returns to the land. The blankets were thick enough to have the dual purpose of being a towel and a sleeping bag, so as soon as she could get dry, she would just dress properly in her clothes again. That would allow her to keep the final pieces of her undergarments on and simply give her that extra peace of mind.

Dropping her eyes to the plainly tailored and colorless fabrics that hugged tightly to the intimate parts of her body, Arlesse was aware that the cloth wouldn't be ruined by the water because of the natural fibers they were created from, and it would only be beneficial if they were washed anyway.

Stepping from behind the blanket, the princess moved to the bank of the water and stepped slowly into the lake. It was colder than she had anticipated, as a series of small bumps formed along her arms and legs, and a chill crawled down her back. Taking a breath to help suppress the shivering of the cold water, Arlesse moved quickly into the blue lake and watched as the fish scattered away from her.

She continued in the water, resisting the urge to complain about the temperature or the shivers that it caused. Just the fact that the sweat and dirt she had built up from the last couple days was lifting off her skin was enough of a relief that it made the uncomfortable temperature more bearable.

She got out far enough from the shore so that she could stand in the lake and be covered up to her shoulders while her feet touched the soft dirt below. Arlesse turned and looked back to the soldiers that waited at the shore. She could only discern which one was Dusty, as the others had already covered their faces again in their helmets, and they had moved about to different positions, making it impossible for her now to tell which of the three men were which. Dusty, however, kept his helmet on the ground beside him on top of the neatly created pile of his armor parts. The pieces of the protective shell seemed so much smaller now that they were stacked within themselves, and as Arlesse looked to Dusty, she was surprised by just how physically well-kept he was. The armor had hidden the muscle tone that made up the bulk of his body, and as she tried not to stare at Dusty's physique, she could only wonder if Jas looked exactly the same beneath the protective armor.

Turning away now from the soldiers, Arlesse pushed Jas from her thoughts and scolded herself silently for thinking about him again, especially in that capacity. He had made it very clear that he had no interest in her, and she needed to get a grasp on her fantasies. He was a soldier who was risking his life for her, and he deserved the respect that a princess was expected to offer, not the daydreams of some overly imaginative young woman.

Taking a deep breath, Arlesse submerged herself under the water and ran her fingers through her tangles of curls. She scratched hard at her scalp, removing the layer of dirt and sweat that had settled beneath her thick hair. After a few minutes, she came up for air and brushed her hair from her face with her hands, feeling the cold tingle of the water as it ran down her head and face.

A sweet smell blew across the surface of the water, and Arlesse looked to the pink flowers that bloomed up from the lake. She swam a few feet closer to them, having never seen a Lagoon Orchid up close before. The pink petals were almost a deep red toward the center, and the color shaded out gradually until it was nearly white at the tips. The orchid was the size of her hand, and this particular one that she was studying had a violet and blue flutter-wing standing in the center, seeming to drink the sweetened oils that formed along the inside of the petals.

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

Arlesse recognized Gath's manner of speaking, and she didn't realize just how long she had been mesmerized by the flutter-wing that seemed to remain safely in the confines of its chosen flower. She thought there was something ironic in that. Here she was trying to absorb every last moment of her experience with freedom, and this tiny creature was so used to being free that it wanted to hide within the flower's confining solitude.

Turning from the flutter-wings and the patch of Lagoon Orchids, Arlesse made her way back to the shore. She was as clean as she could get without any of the scented soaps she used, and she knew that even though her hair was no longer full of dirt and residue, it would be wild and untamed as it dried without a brush or a servant who knew to handle the tight curls.

Jas turned from the princess as she emerged from the water and returned to the branch that contained her clothing. For as curious as his thoughts were about the shape of her body that was hidden by the multiple layers of fabric she wore, he had no intention to be disrespectful to her privacy. He patiently waited a couple minutes before he brought his eyes back towards her, and he had expected to see her returning the various layers of clothing to her body. However, instead of getting dressed, she put her clothes on another branch and used the blanket to wrap tightly within so that her head, shoulders, and arms were exposed.

Jas then brought the HUD back to normal vision, shutting down the infrared, knowing that if the princess decided she wanted to change into her clothes now, Jas could simply turn from her. Finding himself fascinated by how her long curls were straightened into waves as they hung heavily around her and soaked into the blanket, Jas caught himself staring for a few minutes. He watched in fascination as she ran her fingers through the tangles on her head and carefully worked free the large knots.

A heavy touch landed on Jas' shoulder, and he jumped slightly at the unexpected weight, disappointed in himself that he had become sidetracked. However, Gath's grasp was the distraction he needed from being so mesmerized by this civilian princess taking for granted the simple task of combing her hair.

"Show me this shelter," Gath requested. "That storm might be coming in faster than I anticipated."

Jas turned without question and led his brother to the cavern he had found. If this was the calm that came before the storm approached, Jas could only imagine what would lie ahead of them once it struck.


	12. Chapter 11

_Author's Notes_: Thank you so much to everyone who is following this story, and a special thank you to all the readers who have left me reviews! I very much appreciate hearing your comments as it helps to inspire and encourage me. This chapter was originally written about two years ago, but with the evolution of the story and the characters, it had undergone at least three rewrites. I believe this is the chapter many of you have been awaiting, and I hope it meets with your expectations. Enjoy!

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. This chapter's opening quote is taken from Karen Traviss' novel, _The Clone Wars: No Prisoners_.

**Chapter 11**

_I'm a soldier. It's all I am. I don't know a lot about the outside world, but I'm pretty sure that other soldiers have families and lives outside fighting. We don't._  
Clone Captain CC-7567 "Rex"

**Tochin Moon III  
785 Days ABG**

A calming peace had currently settled down upon the forest, extending into the lake that was surrounded by the wooded land. The night brought with it tranquility, and a cool breeze would pass through on occasion rustling the trees, causing some of the creatures to shift about in their nests. The humidity of the morning was long gone, and Gath was not wrong in his predictions about how the storms that had struck earlier were going to be fast and deadly. The elements had rampaged through the land, battling for dominance while the wind had howled angrily, and the rains fell in heavy sheets. The lightning had been bright and dangerous, the thunder deafening in its crackling as it seemed to split the sky in half.

The group of soldiers and the young princess that was in their care had no choice earlier but to confine themselves into the cavern and wait out the weather. No one complained or objected to the circumstances, however. They knew that it was by sheer luck that they had happened along the natural shelter, and if they had been left to the elements instead, they weren't entirely certain they all would have survived.

By the time late afternoon had come to the forest, the storms had evaporated as quickly as they had approached, and the sun had broken through. With the last of the rains and the gray clouds dissipating, the forest had been left bright and crisp. Raindrops had settled upon everything, seeming to portray crystal shards that reflected a multitude of colors around the lake. For the barest of moments, there was complete harmony amongst the life of Tochin's third moon, and the war for the Republic's freedom was nothing but a distant memory for Crimson.

However, reality was never far away from them, and when the hunger for nutrition began, Mouse took the initiative to gather fish from the lake for their evening meal. Gath and Jas tasked themselves with trying to find decent firewood, regretting that they had not done so earlier before the rains struck. Dusty had accompanied _Les'ika_ through the surrounding forest, their intentions to find more RubyFruit. He had thought about discussing with her the increasing tension she shared with Jas, but _Les'ika_ had put her mind forth to the task at hand, and it left Dusty without a comfortable opening to approach her on the subject. Instead, he used his time to just be a soldier and protect her while they gathered the berry-like fruit.

Getting the fire started had taken longer than any of them hoped because of the lack of dry wood. However, once they managed to get a decent fire underway, the fish heated up relatively quickly. As opposed to the hours it took the Fang-bird to cook, the fish was ready to eat in about twenty minutes. Again, without seasonings or sauces, the flavoring was raw and wild, but it was one more meal that allowed them to hold onto their limited supply of ration cubes.

After the fish had been consumed, Dusty used the time to learn from _Les'ika_ how to cook the RubyFruit the two of them had gathered earlier in the afternoon. He was determined this time to have more than enough of the candy-like rations so that he wouldn't have to endure ration cubes or Plumrinds in the morning.

Shortly after night had settled down upon the lake and the cavern, Mouse ventured into their natural shelter, not hesitating to get some rest. Gath had run through the sentry duty schedule earlier, telling them that he would take the first shift and secure the perimeter of their chosen destination by the lake. Dusty was assigned the next shift with Jas following and Mouse taking the early morning shift. Gath had tasked Dusty and Jas with inventorying what was left in everyone's kits during his absence.

Dusty sat just outside the cavern and had piles of their rations, supplies, and the new contribution of RubyFruit surrounding him. Jas was helping to count, organize, and evenly distribute the remaining provisions. The two of them were also trying to figure out how to reallocate the weight in the packs so that they could more evenly carry the loads.

Arlesse had tried to follow Mouse's lead and get some rest of her own, but sleep was elusive. Her thoughts were overwhelmed with the events of the last couple days, and for as exhausted as her body was, her mind just could not settle down. Trying to avoid the feelings of frustration, as she knew it would only distract her from resting, Arlesse decided that a short walk might help her still her thoughts.

She stood and quietly left the cave, not worrying about telling the soldiers where she was going. They all watched her very closely, and she no longer had to explain her departures. Each of them had their ways for keeping her in eye contact, even when she thought she had privacy.

She had only walked about twenty yards from the opening of the cave when she found a rock by the banks of the lake. It jutted up a couple feet from the ground with a relatively smooth surface, and she wondered briefly if a primitive Tochin inhabitant had sculpted it in such a manner eons ago. Whether it was a natural design of the rock or a purposeful one, Arlesse was just grateful it was there for her to use. She settled herself upon it and looked behind her for a brief moment to see Dusty and Jas continuing with the inventory. She was certain that she was close enough to remain within their protection, and she could imagine that if they needed, they would be by her side within a matter of seconds.

--- --- --- --- ---

"Short end of the stick says it's your turn to keep an eye on her," Dusty told Jas as he set up a pile of ration cubes to distribute.

Jas decided he couldn't hold back his resentment any longer, and he had to make an effort to face his irritation with Dusty. He kept his voice low so he wouldn't arouse any of _Les'ika's_ attention. "How could you do it, Dusty? How could you shut off your communications knowing that the entire Clone Army was depending on you?"

Dusty stopped moving inventory around for a moment and looked to his brother. "It wasn't that simple…"

That brought a snort from Jas. "Then which head did she hold the blaster to?"

At that, Dusty grabbed Jas by the neck and pinned him against the wall on the outside of the cavern. Mouse immediately mumbled something to them about letting a _vode_ get some rest or he'd gladly shoot both of them.

Dusty kept his voice soft but offered no room for argument. "Get your kriffing, self-righteous head out of your _shebs_, you _di'kut_."

"You could have killed us, all of us!" Jas said, biting down on his rising voice. "And for what?"

Dusty stared hard into his brother's eyes, and brought an unusual edge to his words. "Stop thinking like a Clone for one damn moment, Jas. You're allowed to be a man."

"Not if it puts my brothers at risk, I don't."

"Shab, you truly are a _sha'buir_," Dusty grumbled. Trying a different tactic, he asked. "Who do we fight for?"

"The Republic…"

"Wrong!" Dusty said, leaning further into Jas to keep him pinned against the rocky wall. "My time with Cerina taught me that I need to narrow my focus. A government means nothing to me. I'm not even a kriffing citizen in the Republic, but when I think about Cerina, I find clarity in my actions. I fight to keep her safe and others like her that do give a damn about us."

"That's anarchy," Jas said, concerned that he may have to kill his own brother for being a traitor.

"No, that's war," Dusty responded. He nodded his head behind him. "You need to fight for her – that girl over there, and if you want to keep her safe, you need to earn back the trust you lost with her. You're not the only one who can close off feelings, Jas. _Les'ika_ built a fortress around her and made sure not to include you."

Jas tried to push Dusty away, but his brother held him firmly in place until he was done. "She doesn't see you as a Clone. Don't you understand that?"

At that, Jas stopped fighting against Dusty's grasp.

"If you walk away from someone like her you're going to regret it," Dusty said, thinking for a moment that he had gotten through to Jas. Then, he saw his brother put up his defenses again, and he shook his head instead. "Never mind. Go tell her she has to come back to the shelter now, and be sure to be a _di'kut_ about it when…"

Suddenly, Jas brought his fist into Dusty's jaw. "I hate you, you traitorous _sha'buir_."

Training instantly kicked in and Dusty rolled with the strike, lessening the blow. He loathed that he always had to hide the truth about that night with Cerina, especially from his brothers, and Jas' reaction was exactly what he feared. Dusty had concealed his experience with Cerina for months by feigning his ignorance about women, but he couldn't keep it bottled inside any longer. Jas needed to know what kind of regret would await him if he didn't step outside the rules and orders they had ingrained in their psyche. Dusty's experience with Cerina had somehow freed him from the desolate life he would have lived, and it made him appreciate the galaxy differently.

Watching Jas, Dusty rubbed his jaw knowing he would have a decent bruise come morning, and he had no idea how he wanted to explain that to Gath yet. "I almost think you meant it that time, Jas."

"Go to hell," Jas mumbled, his fist clenching as though seeking to strike again. However, instead of lashing out, he simply sighed, calming himself down. Then, he started walking away from Dusty.

--- --- --- ---- ---

Arlesse brought her eyes to the trees that surrounded the lake and looked upward to the natural clearing that displayed the night sky. Her eyes moved about the constellations and the millions of stars that made up the galaxy. The sky above resembled a black velvet curtain that had been littered with pinholes, and she realized then that she rarely had such an opportunity to see the universe's wonder. There was just too much artificial light around the palace, and it blocked so much of the natural beauty that was the night over her world.

Rainbows of twinkling stars caught her attention, and Arlesse concentrated on a bright star that glittered in reflections of blue, red, and green. Suddenly, a larger ball of white passed beneath the twinkling star she was watching, and after a couple moments, the falling star disintegrated into the darkness. She couldn't remember ever seeing a star fall from the sky, and she was quickly reminded of an old proverb from one of her childhood flimsi stories: _If a star falls at night, make your wish right_.

Finding herself disappointed now, Arlesse realized that she was so enthralled by the beauty the falling star held that she forgot to make her wish.

"_Les'ika_?"

Arlesse felt her breath quickly tighten, and she closed her eyes, forcing herself to contain the memories from the last three days. She didn't think it was possible that by looking at the sky above for a matter of minutes, she could disregard her capture and the frightening time she spent with that mercenary. However, with just the sound of her modified name spoken in that undeniably unique and thick accent, she had relived her first encounters with these Republic soldiers, starting with Jas offering her his hand in that dreaded prison cell. She briefly wondered if she had never connected her hand to his if she would be feeling the overdrive of her emotions. If it had been Dusty who held her hand instead, would she feel this way for him rather than Jas or would she not have felt anything for any of them?

Opening her eyes now, Arlesse decided it was a question she would prefer not to contemplate. She cared about these soldiers even though it seemed very few others did, and the conversations she shared with Mouse and Dusty the previous night had educated her to the horrors they faced growing up. Even though they were able to make her laugh about their lives, she was saddened at how these cloned men didn't deserve to be raised on a secluded world without a true childhood. She thought it was unfair that they were so duty-driven that they even had to bend and break rules to know what being human is all about.

And, as though she had discovered some new insight, Arlesse understood now why Jas could not continue to be so compassionate towards her. He had no choice but to be a soldier first and a man second. He had seen so much in his short life that he knew the galaxy was far too cruel a place for a cloned man with honorable intentions and a sheltered princess who had known nothing but the private sanctuary that was her home.

Jas turned briefly to Dusty and saw that his brother had put the _buy'ce_ on his head and was busying himself with the inventorying and packing. Jas decided that Dusty was probably attempting to hide the forming bruise on his face and use the HUD to communicate the inventory findings to Gath.

Looking back to the princess, Jas still wasn't certain what to make of the fact that she hadn't turned around to face him, and he began to comprehend what Dusty meant when he told him that she had built a fortress around her. He understood now that from the moment he had pushed his growing thoughts for her into his locked box, she began to stay distant and detached from him. And, as he truly thought about it, he could see in the stiffness of her posture that he had undeniably lost her trust. That realization bothered Jas greatly because he knew now that in order to protect her properly, he had to fix the mistake he had made and find some way to earn that trust again.

"You should not have wandered this far from us," Jas said gently, as he took another step towards her. While Jas looked upon her and saw that she continued to avoid facing him, he began to regret having closed down his humanity so that he could concentrate on the mission as they were ordered. He found himself wondering what it would take to mend the rift between them and show her that he only wanted to keep her safe.

Arlesse turned her head slightly to address Jas, as she couldn't bring herself to see the rejection she knew would be in his eyes. Her voice was distant, her emotion flat. "I didn't mean to make you worry, but I couldn't sleep yet. I never really had the opportunity to see so many stars before, and I knew it was probably the only chance I would have."

Jas moved a couple steps closer to her, and he saw her take a quick breath. Her face spun back towards the lake, and the angle of her head told him that she was looking upwards toward the sky. Jas decided to stop where he was, concerned that if he moved closer he would make her even more uncomfortable with his presence. They were now only a few feet apart, and if anything or anyone tried to attack her, he was near enough to step in harm's way.

Arlesse tried to clamp down on how her heart beat just a little faster as she was aware how much nearer to her Jas now stood. She desperately tried not to think about the stirrings of feelings in her that she couldn't control and knew she could not experience. Concentrating instead on the sky, she looked to all the different ways the stars twinkled. Some were glittering quickly, like a beacon sending a secret message and others blinked slowly, almost carefully. Her eyes were then drawn to the rippling water, and she watched the reflection of the sky in it, the motion of the gentle waves making every star twinkle in some random and hectic pattern.

"It's so beautiful," she said in awe, unable to hold in the feeling of being insignificant in the broad span of the galaxy as it floated above her. "It all looks so peaceful and…safe."

"I wish that were true," Jas said sadly, thinking about the many of his brothers throughout the galaxy. Despite the rivalries and differences he had with many of the other troops, they were still his _vode_. "But, there are numerous battles going on so many of those planets and in so many different systems…even as we speak."

Arlesse continued to take in the sparkling and twinkling of the sky above her, and she wondered how many of the other cloned men throughout the galaxy would survive their battles. If any of them were anything like the men in Crimson Squad, she wanted those soldiers to be safe and hoped for a quick end to the war for their lives' sakes. Closing her eyes, she tried not to think about what would happen to Crimson and the dangers they would face after they return to combat.

Bringing her fingers to touch upon the star pendant that rested against her chest, she opened her eyes wanting to know about the more trivial parts of their missions, the things she was certain no one else cared about. "How many other worlds have you visited?"

Jas shrugged his shoulders casually, even though he knew she wasn't watching him. It was simply a natural reaction of the body during a conversation, and with that realization, he was relieved to be able to talk to her again, to share words that were more than just polite manners. "Only a few. Our missions don't give us time to sightsee the planets where we are deployed. Your world is the only one where we've actually had the opportunity to explore it freely."

Arlesse slowly turned from the sky and looked to him, her fingers falling away from her necklace to rest in her lap. She wanted to know about the galaxy beyond what she had read or seen. She wanted to know from the personal experiences of one who had seen it, not through the eyes of an ambassador or a pilot who took what they saw for granted, but from someone who knew so little of the galaxy, just like her. "From what you have seen of other worlds, does Tochin compare at all?"

Jas took a soft breath, suddenly wishing to extend this conversation and find every way he could to compare his experiences for her. Finding inspiration, he let his eyes wander past her to the sparkling reflection of the stars in the lake. He allowed the woodsy scent of the forests to permeate him, and he doubted he would ever have that odor cleared from his sinuses. The aroma of certain flowers hung heavily in the night air despite their closed petals, and on certain breezes it left a near-sickly sweetness in its wake. In the daytime, colors all but exploded all around him, and the life that thrived on the moon seemed as though it would survive anything.

Bringing his eyes back to the princess, Jas understood now how he saw her so differently than he had in that first holo during their briefing. When he had first been provided that mission file and was told to study it, he initially thought that Princess Arlesse Psach would be nothing more than a superficial monarch, concerned with her own welfare, arguing with them over what was in her best interest. Instead, he discovered this sheltered girl who understood kindness and compassion and cared about men whose disposable lives were for the sole existence of fighting a war. She was as unexpected as her world, and in their short time together, he was certain that he saw her in ways no one else in her protective environment ever had or dared to try.

"Being here is like nowhere else I have ever known," he finally said softly. "Everything is alive, overwhelming, and at times…unpredictable."

Arlesse now turned again from Jas and studied the stars above, forcing her mind to take mental pictures so that she would never forget the peacefulness of the night sky and the beauty it held.

Unable to hide the sadness in her voice, she told Jas, "These past three days I have seen more of my own world than I have my entire life. My father and my servants mean well, really they do, but I've never been past the perimeter of the surrounding towns before."

Jas was not certain what to say in response to her. She seemed to be confessing another failure on her part, another opportunity that had been denied to her because of the restrictions that were enforced upon her to keep her protected. He wanted to ask why they sheltered her so strongly and hid her away from the galaxy, but he feared knowing the answer would either anger him or force him to pity her, and he didn't want to feel either of those emotions right now. He was content during this time he was sharing with her and didn't want to pollute it with negativity.

After a few moments had passed in silence, Arlesse brought her eyes back to Jas. Now when she spoke, her voice sounded lost. "You want me to come back to the cave, don't you? That's why you followed me."

Jas felt a strange pain in his chest suddenly, a moment of guilt for having been caught with his intentions so clearly displayed. Instead of agreeing immediately with her, though, he was bombarded with a brief fantasy of stealing her away in a transport and taking her to any planet she ever wanted to see. Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the image, he forced it out of his mind and glanced over his shoulder to find Dusty still engrossed in the inventorying task. Jas felt a pang of remorse about striking his brother, but he had been just so frustrated for so many reasons that he needed to vent it some way, and Dusty had the uncanny knack of putting himself in the line of fire.

Turning back to _Les'ika_ now, Jas saw her stand and give the sky one last glance. She started to walk past him when she suddenly stopped short.

Jas didn't understand what happened. It was a reflex, a movement of instinct that forced him to reach out and take her hand in his. His eyes caught hers, and he wondered what it would take to see that unique light in her irises again, the light he had seen in them yesterday, after he took care of her snakebite. Jas felt the agonizing need to earn her trust again, and he was determined to find some way to repair the distance that had broken the gentle kindness she had given him.

Arlesse forced herself to breathe, and she tried to push aside the nervous tremble that suddenly overcame her. Jas' large, gloved fingers enclosed her hand, seeming to swallow it in a grasp that conveyed concern rather than force, and she wasn't sure if she should pull away from him or return his grip with her own.

"Please don't be afraid of me," he told her, breaking the silence between them.

Arlesse was taken aback by his words, but she understood why he had said them. When Jas distanced himself from her, she pulled away as well to a place where she sought the safety of the solitude she had known her entire life. Her defense mechanism for rejection was to hide within herself and stay behind the barriers of her loneliness. She hadn't realized just how deep she had buried herself there, and it occurred to her that Jas had mistaken her rejection defenses for fear.

Lowering her eyes, Arlesse tried not to think of the heartache she got by allowing her imagination to deceive her with his good intentions. Jas had been there for her since they met, guarding her and protecting her, even forcing her to face her fears. He personally took care of her wound from the Pallid Viper and began to open himself to her with little snippets of his life. But, it was his kindness that had led her into her immature fantasies, giving her the false hope that a good and honest man like him could ever care about a helpless and pampered girl like her.

"I never meant you any harm. My orders are strictly for your safety," he told her, his fingers taking her hand almost desperately. He regretted having ever closed down his emotions and opening the damn box in his mind to hide them away. He was beginning to understand now what Dusty had told him about opportunities, and he saw that he had clearly broken something between them. He didn't understand why he thought pushing her aside would have made protecting her easier.

"I know," she replied softly, looking to the dark ground, feeling her heart pounding in her chest with every moment his touch remained on her.

"I am sorry," he said.

Arlesse closed her eyes and took a quiet breath wondering for what Jas felt the need to apologize. Was he apologizing because he wanted to share her emotions and he knew he couldn't, or was he apologizing because he recognized her emotions but had no desire to share them? She swallowed hard, trying to decide if it was worth the risk to tell Jas that her feelings for him were growing every minute and she could only hope he would return the affections she wished to share. She wasn't sure she could handle his polite rejection when it would come, and she didn't want to embarrass herself in such a manner.

Arlesse slowly opened her eyes, still unable to face him wondering how to even begin expressing what she felt when she, herself, was still trying to understand the complexity of how her imagination could carry her away so strongly with a fantasy that would never come true. Unable to find any words that would make sense, Arlesse decided for a subtle but daring move and simply laced her fingers into his.

Jas flashed instantly back to the moment when they were alone yesterday, and the hunger of it filled him again. He looked to her troubled blue eyes and saw the maelstrom of confusion in them. He felt her gentle trembling and realized that part of it was his own. He took in her face, the soft curvature of her profile, and he looked to her wild curls, tracing them with his eyes as they fell freely about her shoulders. His eyes then moved to her lips, and the hunger that had been locked in his mental box had finally broken free. Jas had the overwhelming urgency to touch her and move closer, and he didn't stop his free hand as it moved of its own accord to her cheek. His palm cupped her face gently while his thumb softly brushed some of those wild curls back from her face.

The touch of Jas' hand on Arlesse jolted through her, and her eyes instantly came to him, finding his dark irises.

Jas thought he had done something improper with the speed of her reaction to his touch. He feared that he was about to further lose her trust, and he was angry with himself for breaching the protocol of her position as a princess. He pulled his hand back from her face, but found his fingers were unwilling to detangle from hers. His voice came out as a bare whisper, his embarrassment for what he had done clearly evident. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"You feel it, don't you?" Arlesse asked, refusing now to turn away from him, and she hoped that he was experiencing the same maddening excitement that she did whenever they were so close.

Jas looked to her eyes and didn't understand what it was that he was supposed to feel and what exactly she was feeling. He could only describe what he experienced as a hunger, a need for her closeness and her touch. He wanted nothing more than to protect her, yet at the same time, he wanted to discover the entire galaxy with her. Her touch made him feel like he was crazy at times, how it confused him and filled him with excitement.

Jas knew his uncertainty reflected in his eyes, but as he looked to her blue irises he saw that hers shone with…hope, expectation. He saw the fear in her eyes, the hesitancy that she was still anticipating him at some point to turn from her and reject everything about her. And, for some reason he will never know, the idea of someone rejecting her made him both angry and pained that anyone could be so cruel to this caring and compassionate young woman.

Arlesse felt her heart pounding and her breath quicken. She wondered if such emotions were always to be this confusing, this awkward, and she wanted to find some way to prolong the sweet ache of his touch, his stare. Breathing softly, Arlesse forced herself to be brave, even though she had mentally prepared herself for the usual dismissal. Bringing a shaky hand forth, she gently touched her fingertips to Jas' chin.

The touch of her fingers sent a flush of warmth through Jas, and he was aware how soft they were as she lightly grazed them over his chin. He took comfort in the contact of her petite fingers and didn't fight the reflexes that slowly eased him towards her, the space between them shrinking to mere inches.

Arlesse allowed the soft, but shuddering breath to escape her as the thin layer of stubble on his face brushed roughly against her fingertips, leaving a trail of sharp-like burns over her fingers. In the seconds that had passed, she brought her eyes back to Jas, realizing that there was nothing but a mere breath separating them.

Consumed by the maddening closeness between them, Jas still felt his inner turmoil as the soldier within him fought to find a reason to break the moment and remain in protocol. However, what he saw in _Les'ika's_ eyes was something intangible, something that seemed to beckon him closer.

Her blue irises showed him so clearly the contradictions that made up a female, and he understood finally why the Kaminoans never bothered to teach them anything about women. Their gender was too complex, too multi-layered. _Les'ika_ had intelligence and attractive features, despite how she didn't think she was comparable to other women. She was soft and fragile as a human woman is thought to be, but she was also strong in compassion and kindness. Her contradictions made her harmonious, and it would have been impossible for the Kaminoans to ever put together a lesson plan to explain a woman.

Similarly, Arlesse was drawn to the man she now saw in Jas's irises. He was this being who was protective and considerate and cared nothing for anyone who saw him as anything less than a good soldier. He was truthful, brutally so, and his honor couldn't be questioned because his integrity had been ingrained in him since he was a mere child. No hidden agendas or matters of dishonesty existed with Jas because he had nothing to hide and everything to live for in his shortened life.

Jas felt himself nearly drowning in the haze now, and as he fell deeper into it, part of him argued one last time that they were far too close than he ever should have allowed. They were far too different to be falling prey to an invisible fog of emotions. He was merely a soldier, a clone. Clones were disposable beings who did their time and died on a distant planet away from real humans. _Les'ika_ was a privileged princess, a normal human who would live long after he passed on. Her duty was to help her planet and marry someone who would bring her family worthy heirs.

The simple blue of her eyes, however, brought him back to her, and he understood finally what Dusty felt in that moment on Denon with Cerina. Jas was compelled now to ignore the mission protocol just this once, as this might be the only time in his life he would know such contact. If he wasn't dead within the next twenty years from the aging process of a clone, he could be dead in the next second because his life as a commando expected such risks. Something deep within him, emotions he thought he wasn't supposed to experience had grasped his attention, and he could no longer ignore those feelings.

Arlesse found the innocence in Jas' eyes, the truth that he had no more knowledge in such an encounter than she had. She understood now why the connection they shared was always so awkward and confusing, and the realization attracted her to him even more. Whatever this moment would entail, they would learn about it together because neither of them ever had the opportunity before to share such affections.

Jas' gloved hand returned to her face now, and her head tilted upwards as his hand gently brushed across her cheek. He saw her eyes softly close at his touch, and her breath gasped quietly while the warmth of her exhale grazed over his chin.

Instinct promptly took over and Jas closed his eyes as his lips brushed against hers, experimenting with the feeling of the soft touch. He felt the princess tremble slightly, as her lips returned the gentle graze.

Carefully, nervously, they pressed to each other and both of them shared a flush of warmth that sent a tingle of emotion through them. Instead of squelching the maddening excitement, however, the gentle kiss fueled it. In mere seconds, they leaned in closer growing more emboldened at the sensations.

Jas gently buried his hand into her hair and pulled her tighter to him as his other hand remained securely laced within hers. He felt her fingers stop trembling as they grasped steadier to his hand, and she leaned in closer letting him know that she trusted him completely and with no reservations.

Jas felt her small hand fiercely grasp his, her petite fingers seeming to be stronger than he thought was possible. He was aware of how soft her lips were against his and that there was the faint taste of RubyFruit left on them. He heard her inhale heavily and realized that part of it was his own need for air. Neither of them had any idea how long they had been sharing the embrace, and it seemed that neither one of them was concerned about it.

They dared to fight against their need to breathe, to prolong the separation that would occur once they parted. However, they were left with no choice but to succumb to the needs of their lungs, and they were forced to gently pull back, breaking the seal of the kiss shared between them.

Jas opened his eyes, and felt his lungs burning. He took a heavy breath watching her eyes flutter open while she sucked in the cool night air.

After a few moments, reality began to return to Jas' senses, and against his desires, he forced his hands to pull from her, freeing her from the gentle capture of his embrace. He tried to think of how he should apologize for breaking the protocol of the mission and allowing himself to forget his objectives. He never should have touched _Les'ika_ like that, and he had no idea what possessed him to take her in such a manner. He wasn't Dusty, and unlike his brother, Jas looked ahead to the end of the mission, not just the moments that took place within it.

Arlesse couldn't break her eyes away from Jas' dark irises, and as she caught her breath, she could see an entire new world in his eyes, a world that she wasn't sure she could ever understand but knew she belonged within. She saw for a moment that he regretted his actions, fearing what he had done was wrong and dangerous to her, and as his hands suddenly came away, she took a soft but saddened breath. Even after such a connection, she saw that he was now trying to find some way to gently reject her.

Jas swallowed hard, fighting within himself. He knew he felt something when he was with her, and he felt something for her. Embracing her had freed the feelings he fought to keep locked away, and he was not certain any longer that he could contain the rampant feelings when it would matter most.

As the silence between them grew heavy and long, Jas tried to listen to his logical and militaristic side, the one nagging at him to walk away. However, his emotions, the part of him that made him a man, a human, understood how the battle to follow protocol was worth losing. He could not deny how he was attracted to _Les'ika_ and could not ignore what he saw within her eyes any longer. She cared about him without shame or concern, and he meant something to her.

With sudden comprehension, Jas now understood very clearly was it was to be a member of the Reject Squad, a squad known for breaking rules and finding loopholes because that was what they did best. Jas decided that if he was going to ignore protocol, he had to do it for the right reasons, and right now _Les'ika_ was the only reason he needed.

Taking a soft breath, Jas stared into her blue irises. He saw again the intangible world there that he wanted to share with her, and he decided that the world in her eyes was worth any punishment that the GAR or those within power on her world could devise for him.

Abandoning caution and protocol, Jas brought both his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks gently. He leaned forward, his voice soft and honest as it brushed against her lips, "I do feel it."

Then, he kissed her again, allowing the uncontrollable haze to overtake him once more. Arlesse responded without hesitation, and they both decided that drowning in their emotions was better than fighting against the tidal wave caused by them.

Blind to the world around them and the night as it moved about its subdued life, neither of them had the slightest concern that Dusty watched them through his bucket's HUD.

Keeping the helmet communications open, Dusty heard Gath curse softly over the speakers, and he immediately responded, "Don't, Gath."

Dusty sensed that his brother was about to interrupt Jas and the princess, and he was not going to allow that to happen.

"It's against mission protocol," Gath grumbled. "We're not…"

"Supposed to be men, right?" Dusty finished for him. "We're flesh droids, I know. Then, you go tell the Kaminoans that they kriffing screwed up. You tell them that we're not supposed to care or be cared for. And, you be sure to tell them that one of their reject clones developed an attachment to a princess."

With that, Gath breathed heavily, and Dusty knew that his brother was unable to find a convincing argument. It was Gath's subdued way of admitting defeat while still trying to find some way to win the battle.

"Let it go, _ner vod_," Dusty said gently. "Just let it go."


	13. Chapter 12

_Author's Notes_: Thank you once again to everyone who is following this story. The reviews have been especially appreciated! I cannot thank everyone enough for their comments as it helps to inspire and encourage me.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 12**

_I needed to be free, to be able to live and explore. Bringing you into the galaxy was the greatest accomplishment I had done to date, but you didn't deserve a mother who would never be able to provide you with the attention a child requires. It would be unfair and cruel to stay with you, and we would only be miserable in our expected duties._  
Excerpt from Queen Darian Psach's farewell letter to Princess Arlesse

**Tochin Moon III  
786 Days ABG**

Jas leaned over the water of the lake, the armor from his arms neatly stacked beside him with his gloves sitting efficiently beside the armor. His bodysuit's sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and as he took a deep breath, he lowered his head into the cold water. While submerged, he ran his hand through his hair and allowed the refreshing liquid to help awaken him. Sleep didn't come as easily as he had hoped last night, and being stuck with the middle of the night sentry shift didn't help at all. He had spent a long time during what was supposed to be his resting periods tossing and turning, fading in and out of consciousness as he tried to piece together if what he had done earlier in the evening hadn't been part of some fantastical dream. By the time he stopped arguing with himself, he had no choice but to admit that he had, in fact, kissed _Les'ika_ and had finally admitted his growing attraction to her. But, for as excited as he was that their shared emotions made him feel joyful, he couldn't remove from the equation the fact that she was royalty and that he was merely a clone – an age-accelerated clone – who would die long before she would grow old.

Coming up for air and wiping his face on the material of his bodysuit's upper arm, Jas looked outward to the beauty of the lake around him. Last night, things made sense and there was clarity to all his confusion. Under the Tochin stars, the galaxy had narrowed down to just _Les'ika_ and him and…that kiss. Despite his morning haze, he could still feel her soft and sweetly flavored lips on his, and he didn't know why nothing about it felt wrong. Even though everything in the kriffing galaxy should have been against them, he had felt the most peace and the most accepted when he kissed her. Last night, Jas had realized that _Les'ika_ had nothing but genuine compassion and kindness for him. She wasn't afraid to open herself before him in their shared moment, and he had the rare opportunity to truly see who she was beyond a sheltered princess.

The water in the lake on Jas' right side rippled as though competing with the disruption Jas had made to the water before him, and he brought his eyes to see who had joined him near the bank of the lake.

He wasn't sure if he first saw Dusty's bruise or his face, and Jas felt himself cringe as he watched Dusty topping off a bottle of water. The nasty marking that had manifested on Dusty's left cheek was a black and blue discoloration spreading out from his swollen jaw, and Jas' knuckles were clearly visible in the remnants of the strike he had given to his brother the night before.

Jas quickly turned to the water, unable to meet Dusty's eyes knowing that he had been the sole cause of that hideous mark.

Dusty took a swig of water from his freshly filled bottle and then decided to down a heavy mouthful. As though weighing judgment on the volume in the now half-empty bottle, he put it back in the water to fill it up again. Letting out a sigh, Dusty said, "Don't apologize, _ner vod_, or it'll be my fist in your jaw this time."

At that, Jas turned to his brother.

"I pushed you, like I always do," Dusty told him, answering his brother's unspoken questions. "None of us can afford to ignore opportunities. We simply just don't get second chances."

Jas lowered his eyes to the rippling water, watching the reflections of his face and Dusty's. With the exception of Dusty's hair that needed a trim and the bruise covering his jaw, he and Jas were identical men. However, only very few others ever realized that clones were not all the same person and that every one of the men in the Clone Army was different, unique in their own way. Only a small fraction of beings ever saw how each of the clones had taken on their own personalities, becoming individuals who shared nothing more than the same face.

"It's a foolish fantasy, isn't it?" Jas asked as he shook his head and ran his fingers through his damp, dark hair. "I'll be dead long before she's old enough to look old, and I'm not even a registered citizen. She's a princess…a kriffing princess! How could she think there's more to me than a disposable flesh droid?"

"Because you're a good man, Jas. _Ba'vodu_ had done right with you."

Jas shook his head, utterly confused over a moment that had been so right yet continued to have everything around it be so wrong.

"Nothing in _Les'ika's_ actions gave the impression that she was fantasizing," Dusty offered, noting how his brother could not accept this situation easily.

At that, Jas spun toward Dusty, and his need to protect her was clearly evident in his eyes. "You were _watching_ us?"

Dusty smirked. "It's not like you were hiding in the bushes. Besides someone had to keep an eye on you for when Gath came around the corner."

Now, Jas paled and his eyes dropped to the shoreline, clenching his fists in frustration. He had completely forgotten about Gath patrolling while he was conversing with and then kissing _Les'ika_. "Fierfek."

"Be warned, he wasn't happy, but I convinced him to let it go last night."

Jas turned to Dusty again, his question not accusing but understanding and inquisitive. "Is it worth it, hiding the time you shared with Cerina?"

Dusty took another long drink of water, his mind drifting to memories and a night he had never imagined he would know in his short life. When he pulled the bottle away he forced Jas to lock eyes with him. "Yes. If the truth ever comes out, and they decide to give me that DC-17 court-martial, I can at least die knowing I made a connection with a very unique woman. I had a moment to truly live, and that's more than most of our brothers will ever get."

Jas glanced behind him and saw _Les'ika_ emerging from the cavern. He noticed how her wild, dark hair shifted in the breeze and her skirts gently waved by her feet. The bottom hem of her dress had begun to fray, and there was a long-dried bloodstain disrupting the pattern in the skirt from where her leg had bled after the Pallid Viper had bitten her. Her light-colored sleeves were stained with dirt and sweat, and splatters of mud seemed to have taken permanent residence over the bottom half of the skirt. Her blue eyes looked around briefly as though seeking Jas, and as her eyes caught his, Jas felt that familiar heat in his chest, the glowlamp that warmed him internally. _Les'ika_ was more than the sum of her parts, he had realized at some point last night. He doubted many other women, let alone royalty, would have held up with as much sanity in her predicament. The young princess had some kind of inner strength that brewed beneath her sheltering and her innocence, and Jas knew he was probably the only person in her minute world who had the opportunity to see it.

Offering a brief but guarded smile to him, _Les'ika_ disappeared around the other side of the shelter, and Jas knew that Gath would have them on the move again very soon. Once she finished her morning routine and got a bit of sustenance in her, Gath would push them in their journey towards her home. And, now Jas feared that Gath would exhort them even harder, as though trying to find a way to speed up her return to her palace. Jas knew it was far too dangerous and delusional to continue any kind of romantic connection with her, but he had gone the route of denying the hunger he felt for her once before. He wasn't looking to make the same mistake twice, and Gath would just have to understand that Jas had made a choice that only seemed more right as the day continued to awaken. Even if their romantic fantasy only lasted for a couple days or hours more, then it was that much longer that he would experience as a man rather than as a clone.

Setting his bodysuit and armor back in place, Jas put his _buy'ce_ on his belt clip before he moved away from the lake, entirely aware how Gath watched his every motion. Jas briefly noticed as he walked past the cavern how Mouse kept himself busy with running diagnostics on his Deece and tinkering with some settings in his helmet. Jas could tell by Mouse's refusal to get involved that he apparently knew the situation far too well also. It would have made sense that Gath had advised his brothers of this new predicament and that he wanted them to be aware that the mission hadn't changed but the way it would be handled had.

As Jas suspected, Gath followed him while he made his way toward a bush in the distance that contained edible, bright yellow berries. In addition to the RubyFruit, Jas wanted to take advantage of the last few remaining plants they had encountered that contained fruit that was safe to consume. Plus, it would give him a chance away from _Les'ika_ and the others to have the confrontation that Gath obviously needed to have with him.

"You know that by getting involved with her you're breaching protocol and exposing us all to even more risks," Gath told him gently as he stayed close to Jas and threw a glance over his shoulder just to be sure they were far enough out of immediate earshot of the others. He knew it would have been unfair to confront Jas in front of their brothers, and a private conversation was a more respectable way to handle the situation.

"Why is that? Because she's royalty and I'm nothing but a disposable soldier?" Jas asked in return, "Or the fact that you think she'll distract me more than she already has been?"

Gath stopped short for a moment, but then continued to catch up with Jas so he wouldn't need to turn their conversation into a shouting match to be heard. He hadn't expected that Jas had already thought about the things that he had wanted to discuss and had his arguments lined up like targets to be obliterated. Steadying himself, he forged ahead with his case anyway. "Then, you know that it's just dangerous and careless."

Jas laughed softly, with mild sarcasm, as he took the handful of berries he had acquired and put them into one of his empty pouches along his belt. "So are young boys playing with grenades and blasters according to _Ba'vodu_."

Gath breathed hard. "Jas, think about this. Really think about it."

"What's to think about?" Jas questioned softly. "She's not a faceless Republic, Gath. She's a kind and gentle woman. She cares about us – really cares about us – not in the way Gan does and not in the way some of the Jedi do, but she cares, and maybe she's the reason I need to keep defending that faceless Republic."

"I don't deny her kind nature, Jas. But, she's a princess," Gath said, rubbing the back of his head as he sighed quietly. "We both know that the moment she returns home, everything will be over. We'll be deployed to who-knows-where, and she'll go back to living her secluded existence."

Jas stopped reaching toward another berry he was about to pluck. His eyes glazed over briefly and then he brought them to Gath, prepared with his arguments. "I know I wasn't supposed to connect with her, not like this. I doubt she ever intended to connect with me either. But, we did, and now I understand why I have to fight. It's for people like her. It's not for a government or a tower full of Jedi mystics. I'm fighting for _her_, Gath. I want to keep her safe. I need to know that doing my job will prevent her from being harmed ever again."

Gath put his hand on Jas' shoulder plate. "Those are noble arguments, _ner vod_, but will you be able to walk away from her once we get the endex on this mission?"

Jas never once shifted his eyes away from his identical brother's face. "I can't be with her permanently, even I know that. All I'm asking for is now, for whatever time she and I can share together."

"I don't agree with it…" Gath started.

"Then don't," Jas answered, interrupting whatever new argument Gath was about to bring to the conversation. He turned away now and moved his hands over the bush, finding the ripe berries. "But, it's the only way I'm going to be able to protect her properly. I lost her trust when I distanced myself from her, and I don't care about mission protocols, not when breaking the rules will help me follow them."

Gath brought his hand away from Jas' shoulder plate and rubbed his face instead, ignoring the stubble that bristled against the palm of his glove. "How the hell am I supposed to be in charge of this squad when all any of you do is undermine my every word?"

That put a smile on Jas' face, and he gave a quick sideways glance to his brother. "Reject Squad at its finest."

"I really hate that title," Gath grumbled as he turned and headed back towards the cavern. His voice came across with meaning, relaying orders as though his patience had finally found its limit. "We're packing it up. I want to be moving before I lose yet another day."

Jas continued with his berry picking, gathering up just a few more to top off the small pouch on his belt. Relieved that he had earned Gath's reluctant approval for his previous actions and anything else that might occur with _Les'ika_, Jas popped a few of the berries into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully on the slightly tart yellow fruit, surprised at himself for liking the sharp flavor that accompanied the sugary berry. After having lived his entire life on a bland diet of specialized and balanced proteins, all these new flavors and textures had awakened his taste senses, making him want to know what else there was in the galaxy that he knew so little about.

Jas knew that flash training could teach him anything in a theory sense, but to actually experience it and live it was something he had been denied on so many levels. This mission to Tochin had given him experiences and moments in his life that no Kaminoan scientist could ever predict in a preconceived lesson plan. And, Jas found that he liked being on this sidetracked mission, this chance to not have to worry about war or how to survive by ducking through blaster fire and grenades.

Footsteps shuffled closer to Jas, breaking his thoughts, and he recognized the careful and uncertain pressure of _Les'ika's_ feet as she stepped cautiously over the leaf and branch-strewn ground. He heard her skirts ruffling together and scraping against the foliage, and he could only imagine how many more tears would be along that hem. He hoped the material wasn't too expensive for her sake, and with the little bits of her life that she had shared, he could imagine that someone in her inner circle wouldn't be pleased with her current appearance.

Before turning to greet her, Jas' eyes caught sight of a Cerulea plant that grew close to the berry bush, blooming with blue flowers the size of his palm. He remembered from his flash lessons in the mission brief that these lily-like plants were harvested for their fragrance, and their oils were used for perfume as well as for scented candles.

Looking down to the sapphire colored lily in his hand that he had just picked off the plant, Jas studied the light purple center embedded inside the petals. The scent that came from the bloom was more sugary than flowery, and he felt a strange pang of nervousness, wondering if _Les'ika_ even liked this kind of flower. He ran a gloved finger over one of the petals thinking of how delicate this botanical wonder was. It could hold up to rain and weather, but it would die in hours now that it had been plucked from the patch where he had found it. He thought it was a rather fitting metaphor to his own existence. While living on Kamino, he was a plant rooted with everything he could want and need, but once he was pulled off that desolate planet, he had no chance to live long.

Finally bringing his eyes up and turning to face her, Jas saw that _Les'ika_ had settled herself on a tree that had been knocked down by some storm that had passed through in the last few weeks. There was still evidence of the lightning strike that had burned a section of the tree near the center of the trunk, the wood blackened and cracked apart like splintered shards. Jas watched as _Les'ika_ took a few minutes to eat a small handful of RubyFruit from Dusty's stash and follow it with a drink from her bottle of water.

Jas moved to her and took a seat beside her. Cautiously, he presented the bloom before her. "There was an image a long time ago in my lessons about how a civilian man presented a flower to a woman as a gift. I saw this flower and thought of you, but I don't understand why a dying plant is so adored by a female."

Having finished the fruit, Arlesse set the bottle down next to her as she smiled and took the Cerulea Lily from Jas, breathing in the scent. Then, she embedded the stem into the curls above her ear. "Flowers are a symbol of beauty, a reminder of delicate endurance. I don't know why we treasure them either, but it's nice to be given a gift, no matter how trivial it may seem."

Jas turned away from her smile and brought his hands before him as he looked to the ground. "Gath is going to push us harder. He knows about us and will do everything in his power to get you home even more quickly now."

Arlesse breathed silently for a moment, comprehending. "There's a part of me that…doesn't want to go home. Isn't that insane? All I wanted was my life back, my comforts, and now I'm not sure I belong there."

Jas looked to her but had nothing he could say to offer her. They were both obligated in different ways to different lives, and he wasn't sure he wanted to return to his life of war either. Last night, he felt her emotions for him so clearly in the kiss they shared, and her affections for him did not wane with the new day. Every time he looked at her, he had so many questions to ask, and he wanted to know everything about her because his emotions for her did not lessen either. Something sparked between them the moment they met, and it had grown into a flame that was constant but growing in strength.

After a long pause, he finally answered, "I think I understand."

Arlesse laughed softly now. "We're a real pair, aren't we? I'm a helpless princess who's been rejected by most of her peers, and you're some age-accelerated cloned soldier who's been assigned to a rejected squad."

Jas couldn't help himself and offered a quiet snicker, too. A couple seconds later, he took his DC-15 sidearm blaster from his holster and brought it before him. He kept the safety on as he turned the barrel and handed it to the princess, offering the handle to her. "Maybe I can help with your being helpless. Here."

Arlesse flinched back and tightened her hands in her lap, refusing to bring them near the weapon, clearly avoiding it.

Jas saw the strange apprehension in her eyes at the sight of the blaster, and he couldn't understand it. He had held weapons since he was at least two years old, and they were like an extension of his arms. He wondered how someone could not be comfortable around such a device. "Haven't you ever held a blaster?"

"No," she admitted, her eyes glancing from the blaster to his face. "My guardians always protected me."

Jas lowered the weapon and wrapped his hand around it as though to use it, studying how his hand conformed to the grip of the blaster, muscle memory taking over. "The same guardians who let you get kidnapped?"

"It's not their fault," Arlesse suddenly defended, hearing the accusing tone in his voice. She feared that he blamed them for her abduction when it was her own stupid innocence and ignorance. "I wandered from them. They escorted me into town so I could peruse the flimsi novel shop. I only have the opportunity to go there once a month when I need something new to read, and it took forever to convince Papa to let me venture out there even that often, rather than having the stories always downloaded or shipped to me." Arlesse lowered her eyes and took a soft breath. "I know it's silly, but I want to read the flimsies in old-fashioned form, rather than on some datapad. I'm just appealed more to the story if I can touch the bindings and feel the craftsmanship in some of the more expensive covers…"

Realizing she had gone off topic, Arlesse shook her head and looked to her now-folded hands, forcing herself to relive that frightening day. "The shopkeeper insisted that I follow him to the back room where he had just received the latest shipment. I thought I could trust him, like I had many times in the past. He always seemed like such a kind and generous man."

Jas saw her eyes had remained lowered, and as he holstered the blaster, he finished what she was struggling to tell him. "But, the shopkeeper had made a pact with Hazar, knowing your scheduled visits to his shop. Hazar either forced him into helping, or your shopkeeper wasn't as honest as you had hoped."

Arlesse brought her eyes to Jas and nodded. "All I wanted was a story to take home that day that would give me some way to pass the time, some way to escape my mundane existence. I never asked to become a bargaining chip in a war."

"_Les'ika_," Jas reached out and took one of her hands in his, sliding closer to her. He reached his arm around her after his other hand had taken the DC-15 out of the holster again and brought it before her, slipping it into her hands. He watched her flinch, but he refused to relinquish his grasp on either her or his weapon. Carefully, he wrapped her small fingers around the blaster. He placed her forefinger into the trigger, realizing just how tiny her hands were as her fingertip barely made it around the trigger. He felt her inhale sharply, and then he lifted her hands with the blaster enclosed in them, aiming at a dead tree.

"You never close your eyes when you fire," he told her. "That's the first common mistake everyone makes. You need to watch your target."

Arlesse swallowed hard, taking a moment to examine Jas' hands over hers. She realized that he was taking the time to teach her and show her things, and she didn't understand why she was so frightened. His need to have her learn how to defend herself was more than she ever had anyone do for her at home. Jas' touch eased the reservations she had about holding the deadly weapon, and for a slight second she wondered how many lives he had taken with it. Then, she forced the thought aside as she came to understand that Jas was staying next to her and keeping his grasp on her. He was protecting her, carefully inviting her into this new experience. He was not going to let her shoot the weapon alone where her clumsiness could cause someone to get hurt. He was experienced and had been trained hard since his childhood to handle blasters and numerous other deadly weapons. He was going to continue to be her safety net, just as he had when he forced her to confront her fears over Hazar and her kidnapping.

"Can you see that gray rock near that small opening?" he asked softly, his voice shutting down her roaming thoughts.

Arlesse nodded quietly, and her voice was heavy. "Yes."

"I'll help you aim, but you have to pull the trigger. Can you do that?"

Arlesse took a shaky breath. "I think so."

Jas brought one of his hands away from the blaster for a moment and reached down to his helmet still on his belt. He clicked on a button inside his helmet. "DC-15 test. Disregard unless I say otherwise."

"_Acknowledged_," came Mouse's reply.

As Jas returned his hand to the blaster, he felt _Les'ika_ become less tense, her trust taking over and pushing aside her fear. He continued to instruct her gently, refusing to have her lose the opportunity to understand a moment in his world. "Remember to watch your target and don't close your eyes."

Raising her arms a fraction higher, Jas lined up the shot he had planned for her. His thumb clicked off the safety, and he felt her hands tremble slightly. "Fire."

Arlesse pulled her finger on the trigger, surprised at the minimal pressure it needed and recoiled gently into Jas, aware how she curled slightly into his chest and arms. She realized that the weapon didn't draw enough power to push her against him, but she recoiled away from the tiny explosion that created a blue bolt releasing from the barrel. The azure bolt was deadly and entrancing, and she could never imagine having to fight through an endless sea of them, like Jas and so many of his soldier brothers were forced to do.

Forcing her thoughts back to the moment, Arlesse realized that the blaster bolt she had fired managed to land near the top of the large rock as a stain of black carbon scoring indicated the hit.

By now, Jas had set the safety back in place and began to loosen her fingers from the blaster. He clicked on the button inside his helmet once more and brought his arms from around her. "Test complete."

Again it was Mouse. "_Confirmed_."

"You've done that since you were a child?" Arlesse asked in awe, hoping for another moment to be wrapped in his arms again.

Jas nodded as he put the blaster back into the holster. "You either mastered it or you didn't return from the training exercises."

"Why were they so brutal to you, to all of you?" she asked, the thought of children being injured and killed sickening her.

"It was training," Jas explained. "We had to be the best. Someone in the Republic had paid for the best soldiers the Kaminoans could create. That's what the GAR became: cloned soldiers who survived training session after training session."

"I'll never understand it," she admitted. "It's cruel and inhumane."

"So is being kidnapped by a mercenary like Hazar," Jas countered.

Arlesse brought her eyes to Jas, her fingers brushing across the star on her collarbone as she remembered how Hazar tried to open the locket. It was sealed so that only she could open it, compliments of a miniscule chip had been embedded to read only her fingerprint.

Jas watched her small fingers as they grazed over the shiny metal adornment, the only piece of jewelry that she wore. He remembered that it was one of the first things he noticed about her after Hazar had been killed, and he thought it was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, its simplicity making it alluring. He had been curious about the pedant, aware how she touched it occasionally, and he knew he had no right to what she carried in it. However, he could see that there were times she was protective of the piece of jewelry, and it was obviously not because of monetary value.

Unable to hold back the question any longer, his voice betrayed his nagging curiosity. "Why is that star so important to you?"

Arlesse intently studied his dark irises with hers. There were others who had asked about her pendant, but she never had the desire to talk about it with them. They usually were just looking for something to have a conversation about to pass time while they were stuck in her presence. Jas, though, was honestly concerned about her, wanting to know more, and he thought nothing of sharing his blaster with her to have her experience what it was like to use one. She could see in his eyes that he wasn't just having a conversation to pass time with her. He truly wanted to learn who she was and find ways to remember her, much as she had been trying to do for him.

"My mother gave it to me before she left," Arlesse finally admitted as she loosened the clasp in the back of her neck.

"I thought you said your mother died," Jas remembered quickly, thinking back to a conversation they had shared only a couple days ago.

"It's easier to think of her as dead than just gone," she told him sadly. "Saying she is dead usually helps to end an unwanted conversation a lot quicker."

Arlesse then opened the pendant, and a holo of a brown-haired woman emerged, seeming to stand before them in miniature. Her curls mirrored the ones around Arlesse's face, and she wore a highly detailed and embroidered gown that made Arlesse's seem like a peasant's dress in comparison. Opposite of this holographic young woman who shared a similar facial structure with Arlesse was another holo showing a number of lengthy paragraphs in a hand-written script, the wording in Basic.

Jas quickly glanced at the text and realized it was a farewell letter. He looked to _Les'ika_ and saw the sadness in her eyes.

"Death isn't always about the end of breathing and living. It can be the end of anything, including a marriage or motherhood."

Jas knew he was confused and didn't try to hide it while he gazed between the holos and _Les'ika_.

Arlesse studied the holographic portrait of her mother and explained, "My parents were part of an arranged marriage. Papa was the prince at the time, and my mother was an archduchess. It was a marriage designed to bring peace between one of the mining provinces and the governmental monarchy."

Looking solely at _Les'ika_ now, Jas merely watched her face as it remained in some long-buried sadness while she continued her accounts of her parents' lives. "Papa had told me once that he always loved her, trying to earn her affections since the time they were adolescents. I know that he still loves her, even to this day, but my mother was the kind of person who needed her freedom. Prior to her marriage, she was in the midst of leaving Tochin because a monarchy wasn't where she belonged. My father knew that, but she had no sisters for him to unite with instead. Laws and traditions required my mother to stay and handle her royal responsibilities, and she had made a pact with my father. They would unite the people through their marriage, and she would give him an heir to the throne. However, she made a condition in their marriage contract that she would be free to leave when the time for her was right.

"Before I was old enough to really connect with her, she annulled the marriage and left. For years, I always had memories of a woman's voice calling me 'Lessa,' even though I could never figure out who that person was. I had begun to think the voice was just part of some dream I had in my infancy, but when I was about ten years old my father gave me this necklace. He told me it would give me the answers I sought for who my mother was and why I could never forget the sound of her voice."

Arlesse then closed down the pendant and returned it to her neck. "My father protects me so closely because he's afraid I'll leave him, too. I'm all he has left from the woman he loved. Papa never treated me as an heir to his throne and never forced me to become a princess with political worth. He always gave me the respect I deserved as his daughter, not as a royal pawn, and he only expected me to treat him as my father, not as a king."

Smiling sadly, Arlesse touched the star one last time. "Mama chose a star shape because she wanted me to know that even though she was free amongst the stars, she wanted to be connected with me in some way."

Jas sat for a long moment, trying to decide what to say. Her childhood loss was complicated and messy, and it seemed there was nothing to tell her that would console the constant ache she experienced for being rejected at such an early age. It made sense now why _Les'ika_ always feared being turned away and why she could build such barriers to block out those who would attempt to discard her.

Silently, Jas brought his hand to hers and allowed her fingers to wrap around his.

"Daylight is wasting!" Gath called.

Jas glanced behind him to see that his three brothers had their helmets in place and their kits set on their backs. Jas released _Les'ika's_ hand to set his _buy'ce_ on his head while _Les'ika_ got to her feet as she picked up her bottle of water. Jas then took her hand again and stood up, allowing her fingers to lace into his. Moving slightly ahead of her as though to lead her through the day's journey, Jas decided that he would hold onto her in whatever way he could for as long as possible, and he could feel in her grasp that her feelings for him echoed the same.


	14. Chapter 13

_Author's Notes_: I am so sorry for the lengthy delay. Real life kicked me in the _shebs_ these past couple months, and it took a toll on my inspiration for a while. I finally got things back together and was able to write Chapter 13, but real life is still tough right now.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 13**

_As a child, Arlesse used to carry around a heavy-bound flimsi novel that contained a collection of fantasy legends. She read that novel faithfully, even though the flimsi pages were falling out of the bindings and the pictures had faded. I got her a new novel to replace the one in disrepair, but she told me that the new flimsi didn't read the same. At first, I thought she meant that the printers had reworded the stories and changed some of the text, but when I compared the flimsies, they were exactly the same. I was baffled by what she said, and I didn't understand it then, but at some point I finally figured it out. Arlesse had so much of her childhood embedded in that old novel that to remove it from her collection would erase the comfort those stories initially gave her. The new flimsi remained unread on the shelf in her room, but the old one was devotedly left in plain sight. As she grew older, I would occasionally see her run her fingers through the pages, and memories of her younger days would pass through her eyes._  
King Vollan Psach, recalling a memory of his daughter while preparing the speeches for her memorial service

**Tochin Moon III  
786 Days ABG**

Mouse couldn't help glancing over to his left side, his eyes repeatedly falling onto the way Jas' hand kept a consistent grasp on _Les'ika's_, while his other one maintained a comfortable hold around the Deece. His brother made no attempt to hide now the attraction that he had developed for her, and every motion of his body indicated that Jas had taken his duty to protect the princess far beyond a simple order. Jas was attached, and Mouse wasn't entirely comfortable with the new predicament, but he wasn't certain he even understood why he felt such discomfort. He just knew now that Dusty and Jas had been more talkative than they had in the past. Their conversations were barely audible, and most of the time they held them privately. At first Mouse didn't think anything about their seclusion and the seemingly newfound bond, but the more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that there was something definitely brewing between his brothers.

Mouse never denied that he was a secluded man by nature, and he always preferred his isolation rather than mingling with others. Dusty often made him the target of his verbal attacks because of it, but Mouse was also very proficient at putting Dusty back in his place whenever he got too aggressive in his teasing.

However, in the last couple days, Mouse had grown certain that somehow _Les'ika_ had something to do with Jas and Dusty's closeness, but his gut told him that she was not their enemy. Mouse could find nothing in _Les'ika's_ actions or conversations that would lead him to think she was a danger to Crimson. Instead of feeling guarded around _Les'ika_, Mouse found himself more social. Unlike how he felt about most civilians, he didn't mind her company or her conversations, and Mouse had come to the conclusion that it was probably because she carried herself humbly. He had been exposed to far too many arrogant and overly educated persons in his short life, and the princess was refreshingly…modest.

Mouse had also become aware that Dusty seemed to exhibit an air of being more relaxed and liberated around the young woman as well, and Mouse was certain that Dusty was able to understand her on some instinctual level that Mouse certainly dared not to know from _Les'ika_ or any female. Dealing with his brothers was bad enough at times, and Mouse was not the type of man who wanted to throw the obvious confusion a woman caused into his quiet and solitary existence. It baffled him now how Jas had gone and solidified _Les'ika's_ trust to the point that he developed an attachment that broke the orders of simply protecting her.

Mouse watched as the young princess lifted her head slightly towards Jas and she smiled, her cheeks brightening for a brief moment. Mouse didn't see anything different happen between them prior to her reaction, and his brother had made no spoken sound. Again, Mouse felt his eyes fall to their hands, and he could only imagine that they were sharing some kind of silent conversation with their entwined fingers.

"Admit it, _ner vod_, they're cute," Dusty verbally jabbed, as he spoke through his helmet, setting the link to the private channel that he shared with Mouse.

"Gath does not think so," Mouse answered after having turned his own helmet onto private with Dusty. "He is concerned for the welfare of the mission. He thinks Jas is complicating it."

"Gath thinks in flat terms," Dusty explained. "Jas and _Les'ika_ put a layer on that flat land, and now Gath thinks there's a mountain in the way."

Mouse contemplated that for a long moment.

Dusty had taken Mouse's silence for misunderstanding and instead offered, "Protecting _Les'ika_ and getting her home safe is our primary mission, right?"

"Yes."

"Think of it like this: Instead of guarding _Les'ika_ like a distant soldier…a sniper like yourself, Jas is now the plasteel blanket around her. He's a shield, closely guarding her to keep her from harm."

Mouse absorbed that, considering it. "How do you know so much about all this?"

Dusty paused, ready with the comments that he was certain would get Mouse to back off and turn his attention elsewhere. He knew his brother would never handle the truth of his experience with Cerina, and he wasn't ready yet to breach the subject with him like he had with Jas. "Wow, you're talkative today, _ner vod_. Got a bit of curiosity, have you? Are you wondering what it's like, wishing it was you with _Les'ika_?"

At that, Mouse clicked off his communications. He didn't want to hear it from Dusty. It was no mistake that the two of them were always sparring one way or another, and Mouse decided to end the conversation before it got to the point that they were sparring once again. He didn't feel like getting into an argument nor did he want to see it become another punching match. Jas had done well enough with Dusty's face the other night, and Mouse didn't particularly want to give him a matching bruise, especially if it would endanger his trigger finger.

Silently now, Mouse thought about what Dusty said and how Jas was no longer a distant guardian, but one close and connected with _Les'ika_. He was still glad he wasn't the one in that position, and maybe Jas was the best choice for her. _Les'ika_ had seemed more interested in Jas anyway, and he had grown more relaxed after he started being more than simply polite to her.

Watching their hands for a moment, Mouse saw what he assumed had prompted _Les'ika's_ earlier reaction. He noticed how Jas grazed her knuckles lightly with his thumb, and how her fingers instantly grasped his hand tighter. It meant something to them, that minimal touch, and again it was a language Mouse would prefer not to be bothered wasting his time learning.

Suddenly, Gath brought his Deece around and raised his free hand in the "hold" position. The group stopped, Crimson silently ducking down into the greenery and instantly clicking their communications over to the private channel that kept them soundless to the outside world.

Jas brought his arm around _Les'ika_ and pulled her into the shrubbery next to him. He crouched down with her, conforming her into the back end of a huge tree trunk while he waited for further instructions from Gath before proceeding with an explanation to her.

Arlesse began to understand that when these soldiers got suddenly quiet and tense, that it was best for her to remain silent and let them do what they had been trained to do. She watched the four men soundlessly disappear into the wooded land around them, and she decided not to question Jas as he moved her safely within the underbrush of the forest.

Her eyes silently looked to his blue visor questioning him to tell her what he knew, but he offered nothing and just maintained his watch onto the pathway from where they had all quickly disappeared. She was aware that his blaster was positioned in his hands, ready to fire at whatever invisible being he saw out on the path.

After a few moments, Arlesse heard something that sounded like metal clanking together and the indistinct trail of voices, realizing that neither of those sounds belonged to any of the Republic soldiers that made up Crimson Squad. She strained her ears to try and hear the conversation, but it was lost in the clattering metal, even though it seemed to be growing louder and closer. Arlesse then noticed how Jas lifted the blaster slightly, holding it firmer. Instinctively, her hands came to her mouth and covered her lips so that she would not even be tempted to breathe loudly.

After a few seconds, the noises stopped, but the voices continued talking and had grown noticeably clearer.

Gath searched through the woods and looked further down the path where they had been heading, discovering a small clearing northwards about fifteen yards from where they were hiding.

Eight battle droids had taken guard positions around two beings, and half the squad blocked the path from the woods to the clearing. One of the beings that was within the guarded circle was a female Koorivian, and the drab, gray uniform did little to hide her reptilian, mauve-colored skin. In fact, the gray of her attire seemed to enhance her unusual coloring, making her appear brighter than she actually was. The insignia patch on her uniform bore the ranking of a CIS commander, something that Crimson didn't think would have been awarded to a female, but then again they really didn't know much about the Koorivians, so who were they to judge how rank should be distributed? After all, in a war it would only seem logical to give leadership authority to someone who had experience or knowledge on how to handle it.

As for the other being that was talking with the Koorivian, he was an older human, probably in his late fifties but seemed physically fit despite the elaborate dark green cape that flowed from the back of his expensively tailored light green tunic and pants. His bright, blonde hair had grown recognizably thin on top, and it gave the impression that he had less hair than his baldness appeared to have. His light, tan skin made his dark eyes seem to be placed deeper in his sockets than they should have been, and the noticeable birthmark on his right cheek gave a clear indication that this man was none other than Baron Erle Zech, the man who instigated Princess Arlesse's kidnapping.

Gath watched as Zech held before him a small device that suddenly projected images of the Grand Palace, the home of King Vollan Psach and _Les'ika_. Gath steadied his blaster realizing momentarily that he had allowed himself the mental slip of silently addressing the princess in the name his brothers had given her, and he could no longer deny that he had grown concerned for her himself. He had tried to convince Jas to drop the attraction before it got too much further, hoping that his own compassion for the young woman would disappear along with Jas' affections. Unfortunately, neither subsided, and the last thing that Gath knew any of them needed was to deal with a commando with a broken heart and the punishment that would be doled out amongst them from both the Tochin government and the GAR.

Wrapping his fingers around the Deece tighter to suppress the urge to sigh, Gath knew that he had developed his own empathetic attachment to the princess, and he had seen how this morning it was so very clear in her eyes that her affections for Jas were genuine. Gath was certain that the way she opened her locket for Jas was something she didn't just do for anyone. Showing him the holograms within it had exposed a very real wound in her eyes, and Gath had no choice but to interrupt them and remind them that their affections could only be temporary.

Even Gath had to admit that he thought at first that the princess had simply latched onto Jas because he had overplayed earning her trust when he first rescued her. He was concerned that she had merely thought of Jas as some fantasy hero who would protect her from every evil, but since he observed their encounter this morning, he had seen how very real her emotions for his brother were.

Risking a glance into the thick underbrush where Gath had last seen Jas and _Les'ika_ submerge, he hoped his brother could protect her and sustain his focus on the mission. Gath knew he could never handle maintaining the kind of dual focus required to protect a civilian on a personal level while trying to carry out mission orders, and he hoped that he would not have to report that they lost either Jas or _Les'ika_ because of an attraction and attachment that they all knew broke every rule.

In the mere seconds that Gath had developed and pushed aside his concerns, he set his helmet to focus in closer on the visuals of the holoprojector that was between the two beings.

"You're certain we're safe out here?" the Koorivian CIS commander asked, skepticism and distrust clearly evident in her deep voice.

"These woods are abandoned, Commander Gunna," Zech responded. "Eons ago, the natives migrated to the land where the towns now exist. These trails were once used for equinine outings, but the farm where they were kept had burned to the ground about six years ago, and the trails had closed down shortly afterwards."

"And you're certain that no one decided to take over the farm?" the CIS commander asked, uncertainty clearly evident in her voice.

"Looking for a retirement?" Zech offered with quick sarcasm, as though he was in a hurry to get back on topic.

"Just being cautious, Baron," the Koorivian replied, changing the subject now to the task at hand. "Have you heard anything else to confirm the girl's demise?"

Zech paused, and a trickle of regret began to enter into his voice. "She's a princess, not just some common…"

"And you said nobody would miss her, that she's useless…"

"I also said she was harmless, Gunna. You promised me that she would be safe."

"I promised you that Hazar could behave as long as he continued to receive adequate payments. I forewarned you to keep him on his credit leash, and I even threw a clone trooper his way to keep him distracted from her."

Jas swallowed hard, knowing now who was ultimately responsible for bringing one of his brethren to the hands of Hazar. He quickly looked to _Les'ika_ and saw her hands over her mouth, but her trembling was no longer solely from fright. He saw the anger in her eyes at the way these two beings were talking about her and the murdered clone trooper. Silently, Jas put his hand on her shoulder, and felt her tension ease slightly.

Her eyes came to his visor, and he took his hand from her shoulder to hold a finger before the lower part of his helmet, silently telling her she had to remain quiet. Her eyes closed softly and she nodded once in acknowledgement before opening her eyes again.

Jas then turned his attention back to the Separatist and the baron. Zech shook his head, seeming to want to know answers to a mystery that was eluding him. "Hazar was paid as he wanted, so what would possess him to attempt to leave the base on Moon II?"

The Koorivian commander offered no pity in her voice. "Forget about the girl. Besides, she was just collateral damage, and she served her purpose. From what you mentioned earlier, the clones' discovery of Hazar's wreckage had significantly distracted Psach. While he's mourning her loss, this is the perfect opportunity to strike. He will not see it coming while he is blinded in his grief."

Zech sighed heavily and shook his head again seeming lost. "I just wanted to scare Vollan, to find some way to get it through his thick skull that an alliance with the Separatists would be better than staying under the corrupt Republic."

"Look, Baron, we lived up to our end of the bargain. It's a little late to have regrets. You advocated solely for a Separatist Alliance for the last two months. If you're backing out now, you will not have another chance. We can do this civilly, with your cooperation, or we can just bring in the droid army and wipe out your people. Either way we get your tolium, but I'm certain you'd rather do so with a mutual relationship established than by us taking a path of dominance."

Zech touched another button on the tiny holoprojector, and a series of lights turned red within the structure of the palace. He started talking about the security system as well as the shifts and the rotation of the guards.

"I'm awaiting your signal, Gath," Dusty said, sounding somewhat impatient to get blasting at something.

Gath kept his focus on the holographic image, calculating the speed it would take for those droids to round on them and if any of their shots or shrapnel would deflect, striking the princess, the sole object of their mission that they had to protect.

"There's a light transport ship and a single-person speeder in the small clearing to the north of the path," Mouse reported, keeping his communications on the private channel that allowed him to speak covertly with his brothers and not allow anyone else to hear them.

"When the hell did you disappear?" Dusty grumbled, realizing now that Mouse had taken point and moved himself silently through the woods to recon what else they were up against.

"Learn to keep your mouth shut and you could be doing this, too," Mouse jibed. "Seems Gunna only brought with her the small escort you see out there. I'm getting no other readings off the ship – no biological and no droid."

"I say we take them out now," Dusty said, his voice itching for a firefight. "We've handled more than eight droids before, and we have the element of surprise. They don't even know we're here."

"I can't risk that with a civilian in tow," Gath reasoned. Again, he had the mental image of the princess taking a lethal blaster bolt or worse and their mission being a complete disaster.

Jas had heard the entire conversation that took place between Zech and Gunna, and he spared a look at _Les'ika_, knowing she had heard it, too. He couldn't deny that he wanted some personal retribution for this CIS commander having thrown one of his brethren into Hazar's razor-sharp clutches, and he wanted to prevent _Les'ika_ from further harm at the Separatists' hands. Knowing that he didn't have the chance to help his murdered brother, Jas knew that he could, at least, help _Les'ika_. "Gath, we have to stop Zech and Gunna from launching this attack."

"He's right," Mouse advised. "Tochin is one of the Republic's larger suppliers of tolium. If we lose that, we may as well be fighting with sticks and rocks instead of blasters."

"Mission orders are to protect the princess and get her home safe," Gath reiterated.

Jas sighed in frustration, wondering how his brother could not clearly see the consequences. "And, if we follow those outdated orders, she may not have a home to go back to. This is what we do, Gath. This is the kind of mission we've been trained to handle."

"And, we've bent our orders so close to insubordination that we've practically shattered our armor," Gath argued. "Without communications, we don't even know if another squad was already planted to handle those Seps. We might end up killing our own."

"But, what if you're wrong, Gath, then what?" Jas asked. He turned his helmeted head to _Les'ika_ and gently lifted one of her hands from her face. He studied her eyes as they shifted from anger and fright to curiosity and concern. Wrapping his fingers around hers, Jas squeezed her hand gently to offer her silent reassurance, selfishly allowing him a second to absorb himself in the blue of her eyes.

Dusty breathed softly. "We only have one chance for this, Gath. I'm not going to take the risk that there's another squad of ours out there. We all know we were assigned the Tochin mission because it's out of the way from the real fighting. Reject Squads don't get real missions, but if we walk away, Tochin might fall under Separatist control, and then we'd really be the Reject Squad."

Gath watched Zech as he passed the holoprojector to the Koorivian, and he knew he that had to make the decision right now about what they should do. It would only be a matter of minutes before Commander Gunna and Baron Zech broke away from their planning and scheming. He had to make this decision immediately, and even he knew his brothers were right. Without further thought, his voice came across with the flat, monotone accent of a man issuing orders calmly, "Triangulation."

Arlesse felt Jas' hand suddenly become tense, and his body stiffened as though he had changed again into the soldier who kept her locked out. He released her quickly and brought his sidearm blaster into her hands. She took a shuddering breath, knowing that something was about to happen, and it involved Zech, Gunna, and Crimson.

Jas' voice was a near-whisper, a faint sound that could easily be lost amongst the breeze and the creatures in the woods around them. "Keep down, and be prepared to run."

Arlesse shook her head, her questions coming faster than her voice could produce them, and before she could utter a sound, Jas' finger was over her lips.

"You're _kotyc_," he told her, taking his finger away.

Arlesse looked to the blaster in her hands, an object that appeared to be an oversized weapon and one she had no experience in using. She couldn't count the single shot she had taken earlier this morning as any kind of significant training, especially when it was Jas who aimed it and steadied her hands. Part of her wanted to push the blaster back to him and curl into his armor-plated chest where she could hide and feel safe. However, something inside her didn't want to be the helpless and scared child anymore. There was something about these soldiers, and Jas especially, that made her want to be stronger – _kotyc_, as the _Mando'a_ language pronounced it. She needed to prove to herself that she could allow Jas the chance to save her father without having to worry about her. Arlesse knew her father had no idea of the danger that was about to unleash on him and his subjects, and she had no right to be selfish with her fears when there were others who needed Jas and Crimson more.

Reaching a hand upwards, Arlesse tilted Jas' helmet slightly downward and placed a gentle kiss above the blue T-visor. Taking a calming breath, she uttered simply, "Be careful."

Forcing himself to push aside the concept of leaving _Les'ika_ to fend for herself in this endless forest, Jas tried not to think about the new branding that his helmet had just received. He knew it was only his imagination, but he could swear that _Les'ika_ had burned a mark on his bucket with her touch and her soft lips. Closing down all the emotions he suddenly wanted to feel and stuffing them into his mental box, Jas moved silently from _Les'ika_, seeking his place in the triangulation maneuver. He had his communications already set back to the channel he shared with his brothers, and he listened to Crimson report in, hurrying to get into his own position.

"I'm already near the vehicles. I call dibs on disabling them," Mouse reported softly.

"_Kandosii_!" Dusty shouted, and his voice tingled with excitement. "I call sniper."

Gath sounded reserved. "Jas, you in position yet? I need a crossfire."

Jas couldn't hide his concern for _Les'ika_ in his words. "Okay, I'm ready."

"On the count of two, flash grenade," Gath told them. "One…two."

A fast, hard explosion of light echoed through the woods scattering birds and creatures in every direction. The droids had been in the midst of forming up into guard position behind the Koorivian, but now at least two of them were knocked to the ground. One was thrown towards Zech and slammed him into a tree. The crack of the baron's head hitting the wood was lost in the firefight that suddenly erupted.

Blaster bolts began firing wildly into the wooded land, but Crimson remained hidden in their alcoves, firing on the droids.

Gunna didn't hesitate to get back up on her feet and move further into the clearing. Two droids attempted to follow behind her, maintaining their guard duty. However, Dusty lived up to his name and "dusted" the metal soldiers, his smile hidden beneath his gray helmet.

"Mouse, Gunna's coming your way!" Jas reported, his words strangely on edge.

"Relax, _ner vod_," he replied calmly. "I have a surprise for her."

Gath and Dusty concentrated their efforts on the remainder of the droids, and Jas stepped from his secluded position amongst the shrubs. The Koorivian was quickly regaining her sight and hurried herself faster, as she ran back towards her ship. Jas thought of nothing but the dead clone trooper and finding _Les'ika_ as a broken and frightened child in Hazar's prison bay. Instantly, his adrenaline pushed him, and he ran after her faster.

"Don't kill her," Jas yelled suddenly to Mouse. "She might have that trooper's identity tag."

"Oh, shab," Mouse said, regret filling every syllable.

"What does that mean?" Jas asked, instinct promptly stopping him in his tracks as he knew Mouse's tone of voice.

"Get clear! Get clear!" Mouse quickly began yelling.

_Shab…shab. Shab_! Jas mentally screamed. He saw Mouse pop out of his hiding place near Zech's speeder, and the two of them were running fully on impulse and adrenaline back into the woods for shelter.

Gunna didn't think twice and hurried up the ramp to her ship, believing that she had managed to get her enemy to back off.

Jas heard the sound of the engines come to life and then an explosion suddenly ripped through the clearing, shrapnel and debris blossoming out in a violent blast. Both Jas and Mouse were thrown to the ground as they had been a bit too close to the explosion for their own comfort.

After a couple minutes to be certain that the worst of the debris had finished raining down, Mouse and Jas turned to see the twisted and destroyed wreckage that once was a space-faring ship. It was no longer recognizable as a CIS transport. Zech's personal speeder didn't fare that well either. The bright blue coating was dented and scratched with parts from Gunna's ship violently embedded in its plating. It looked more like a being from a horror-holoflick than a vehicle now.

"Overkill much?" Dusty asked as he caught up with his brothers and the destruction they caused. Neither Mouse nor Jas thought anything of it as he lugged the unconscious form of Baron Zech over his shoulder.

"So much for using her for information," Gath said, shaking his head. "At least, he's still alive."

"_Ni ceta, ner vod_," Jas said, quietly apologizing to their unnamed brother and knowing now that any chance of finding out who that clone trooper was that had defended _Les'ika_ was lost forever. He had wanted to give the princess some peace, some closure for having to witness his murder, but instead he was left with nothing.

_Les'ika_! Jas suddenly realized, his mind closing down from the mission as his emotions for her surfaced from that mental box. He had left her by the tree when he went to take on the firefight, and he had no idea if she was even okay. The debris and shrapnel could have landed anywhere…potentially harming her or worse.

Without warning, Jas turned from the wreckage and bolted towards where he left the princess, hoping that he would not find her with a piece of Gunna's ship lethally embedded in her.

"Guess you better make sure Gunna's body is cooked, _ner vod_," Dusty sighed, looking at Mouse. "Your mess this time."

Jas sprinted towards the tree where _Les'ika_ had been, noting that the debris hadn't blasted out nearly as far as the explosion made it seem it should have. He stopped abruptly as he saw her raise the blaster at him. Her arms were shaking, both her hands holding the grip of the blaster as though she was a frightened animal defending her territory. Her blue eyes were glazed with panic, turning them almost into a shade of sickly gray. Yet somehow, Jas found that the feral look in her eyes was more comforting than the broken woman he had met on Hazar's ship in that prison cell. Something in her was changing; she was growing _kotyc_ and determined, and it was a transformation Jas wasn't certain he would have seen in her just a couple days ago.

"_Les'ika_," he said gently, as he lowered himself to his knees before her watching her eyes suddenly soften. He saw how she became the trusting young woman once more, and her breath came in a sudden gulp of air, seeming to awaken her from some horrible dream.

Jas pulled his helmet free from his head and dropped it quietly onto the ground next to him. His hands gently pried the blaster out of her grasp and returned it to his holster.

"It was so loud," she said, shaking her head.

Jas took her hands gently and caught her eyes with his. "It's over now. You're safe."

"Your brothers?" she asked shakily, her blue eyes looking to his but worrying about the rest of Crimson's safety.

Jas was warmed at her concern for his _vode_ and couldn't hide the smile that touched upon his lips. "They're okay, too."

Arlesse caught the child in Jas, as his shy grin revealed more about him than words ever could. She felt herself becoming further calmed in his presence, and the trust she had for him was strengthening and growing deeper, if such a thought was possible. She had given Jas her complete trust already, and the fact that he could reach further inside her meant that there was more of her heart that she wanted to share with him. Her concerns for him were growing far beyond any infatuation she had ever known before, and every moment they were together showed her just how much she wanted to share her life with him.

Jas noticed that _Les'ika's_ eyes came back further from that look of feral panic, and the gentle woman with the compassionate and concerned demeanor returned. It made Jas feel that nagging hunger for her again, and he felt no need to try and resist it. Leaning towards _Les'ika_, Jas was surprised when she took his cheeks in her hands and pressed her lips to his. He remembered a lesson once about how humanoid nature reacted when faced with a situation of life or death and it often brought out passions in people that they normally wouldn't feel. For the briefest of moments, Jas wondered if this was one of those situations, but as his hands gently curled around _Les'ika's_ back, he realized that it was far deeper than simple impulsive passion. Sliding a hand to the back of her neck, Jas melted into their embrace and silently hoped once more that this mission could last for just a while longer because every time he touched _Les'ika_, he found it was growing harder to let her go.


	15. Chapter 14

_Author's Notes_: My real life is still on shaky ground, but we're surviving. Thanks again to everyone who has offered their support and kind words! It does help to know we're not the only ones in such tight corners in this economy.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 14**

_I finally got my freedom after ten years on that blasted, miserable Kaminoan hellhole, and they told me I only had about four months to live, and probably one month in relative comfort before they pumped me full of pain meds. All I wanted was to find my sister-in-law who was carrying my brother's child…a child that I don't even know was a son or a daughter, and these doctors insist that I probably would have died long before I even got close to finding them. So, now I'm confined to a bed, living out the last of my days as I watch the malignant cells eating me alive._  
Excerpt from Gan Pohin's final message to Crimson, with instructions to be delivered to them only after he has passed away

**Tochin Moon III  
786 Days ABG**

Arlesse pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the cool spring afternoon. For the last few minutes, she had been unable to turn away from the unconscious form of Baron Erle Zech. She and Jas had joined the others not that long ago, and as soon as she saw Zech alive, she had wanted the blanket to wrap within. There was something comforting now about the thick, woven fibers and how they enveloped her back and shoulders. The fabric was a figurative set of arms to hold her safe and protected, something that she knew Jas could not do at the current moment.

Feeling her emotions for Jas building stronger once again, Arlesse realized now that it was more than just an impassioned kiss in their stolen moment. Something happened inside her when he pushed his blaster into her hands and gave her the brief instructions to defend herself, and it was because he gave her more freedom than anyone else had ever tried to before. She wasn't relying on guardians who told her what to do and not to do. She had the opportunity to think for herself and react with nothing but her own instincts, something she had never been able to explore before. Even with all her fright and panic, Jas trusted her and believed in her to do the right thing. He merely guided her instincts which direction to go. He had told her to shoot and run, and a simple directive like that she knew she could follow.

Eyes boring into the baron, Arlesse fought to push aside the fear she experienced when she thought about how he planned her kidnapping, setting it up with a cold-blooded mercenary. It hurt her even more to think that this man had tried to plot the death of her father and all who would remain loyal to the throne of Tochin.

Arlesse was aware of how Crimson practically sat on top of Zech with their weapons trained on him. Despite the man's unconscious state and his bound wrists, none of Crimson was taking the chance that Zech wouldn't try to harm her again.

Thinking back on her days in the palace, Arlesse had barely crossed paths with the baron, but whenever she had, he always seemed polite. He kept his distance from her, something it seemed many of the ranked nobles did, and she never thought anything of it. But now she was wondering if there had been anything peculiar about the way he held himself and she had just never noticed it before. She tried to replay memories of her encounters with Zech, but there was no Separatist Alliance then and his dealings seemed typical for a noble in the royal court.

The baron began stirring, and Arlesse felt her body tense suddenly.

"_Udesii_," Jas said softly from beside her and touched her shoulder gently. "It means to be calm."

Arlesse looked to his helmeted face, the blue visor the only indication of where she imagined his eyes were beneath that armor.

"If my brothers and I appear silent for long periods of time or are speaking _Mando'a_, we are not keeping you out of our discussions," he told her, "With an enemy in our midst…"

"I understand," Arlesse answered, cutting off his explanation as Zech had begun an attempt to sit up from the ground. She swallowed hard as she saw the man's dark eyes look around him, trying to clear the fog. She had experienced that feeling for herself when she had awakened on Hazar's ship disoriented and scared. She wondered if the baron would consider himself fortunate that he was not in the presence of the same crazed criminal who wreaked havoc on her emotions and killed for the disgusting joy it brought him.

"_Udesii_," Jas repeated softly, taking his hand from her shoulder. He knew that they couldn't reveal their attraction in front of an enemy, and it pained him to be distanced from _Les'ika_. The few moments they could share were always intense and joyful, but they were never long enough. He knew those moments couldn't be extended, but it didn't stop him from hoping that they could be together for longer than the time they had shared and if it would ever be possible to share more time with her. Unfortunately, he knew it all too well that once the endex was called, they would be forced apart permanently.

Arlesse took a heavy breath and instinctually grasped the edge of the blanket tighter in her hands. Zech's eyes were clear now, and he lifted his head off the ground taking in the Republic soldiers that surrounded him. He again attempted to sit up, only to find his hands were bound behind his back and his balance was awkward without being able to use his hands to keep level. He stumbled a couple times before righting himself enough to be considered sitting up on the ground.

Arlesse watched Zech's eyes rise slowly, and take in the Republic soldiers, the loyal guardians that Arlesse knew would protect her. When Zech's irises came to her, she felt a cold shudder crawl down her spine. It wasn't because she felt he would do anything to her, not with Crimson around to keep her safe. Instead she saw the regret in his eyes, the realization that everything he had planned and schemed had evaporated like the morning mist that was common in this wooded land.

"You're alive?" he asked her, full of confusion.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Dusty asked in reply, leveling his blaster at Zech, showing that he had no problem killing him in cold blood for his betrayal not only to the Republic but to _Les'ika_.

Seeming to ignore the soldier threatening him, Zech kept his eyes on Arlesse. "We saw the holos of Hazar's ship. There was no way anyone could have survived."

This time, Mouse answered. "Then, we're either miracle workers, or you're encountering a ghost. Your choice."

Arlesse watched as Zech's eyes studied her clothing, seeming to be concentrating his attention on her skirt where the most damage had settled. He stared at the frays on her skirt as well as the dirt and blood that had become ground into sections of the cloth.

"Please tell me that Hazar didn't touch you inappropriately," he said with a voice full of sadness and regret. "I was paying him more than adequately to just hold you safe."

"Hazar forced her to watch as he killed one of our men," Jas now said, the anger clear in his voice. "He didn't need to touch her."

"_Udesii, vode_," Gath warned, aware that his brothers were edging far too close to their concerns for _Les'ika_. They couldn't let on the fact that they actually did care for her. It would compromise her safety and theirs as well.

Zech looked amongst the four blue visors as though defending his actions. "Hazar came recommended by my Separatist allies. They told me he would handle the job as needed."

Dusty intervened once again before Arlesse could respond. "I take it scum like you don't bother with background checks before hiring crazed sadists?"

Bringing his eyes to Arlesse again, Zech shook his head. "You were only supposed to be a distraction for your father. I needed his head clouded so that the Separatists would be able to enter Tochin without hostility."

Arlesse thought of her father and the agony he must be experiencing, thinking that his only child had been taken from him, killed in a senseless act. She could imagine his distraught face and the heartache in his eyes. In his moments of solitude when he looked out one of the balconies, she would catch him with that faraway look, his inner world destroyed. She knew those were the memories of her mother he was living. She still couldn't understand what had happened that her mother had to leave and be free. Her father would never have denied her the simple freedom that she wanted most. Arlesse could see that he loved her far too much.

Realizing that she had let her thoughts wander too far from the current moment, Arlesse allowed her eyes to move about the armored men of Crimson Squad. They were not rejects, despite how they believed that they were. They were honorable and loyal men. Their bravery should not be ignored and now they were her personal protectors. Even Arlesse could see that their actions were more than just defense to the Republic. There was kindness in their eyes when they looked upon her, and in their short time together, they had invited her into their world. She doubted they would have shared so much of their lives with her or taught her words in their language if they hadn't developed the respect for each other that they had.

Even though she knew that she and Jas had to suppress their emotions while in Zech's presence, he had remained stationed near her, continuing to be her constant shadow, and as Arlesse glanced in his direction she willed the warmth in her chest to stay hidden. She knew it was against protocols and laws to be so fond of him; however, he had earned nothing but her respect, trust, and affections. He had somehow taught her that she had her own strength, but she just needed to learn how to be brave enough to feel it.

Taking a soft breath, Arlesse turned from Jas and brought her eyes back to Baron Erle. She allowed the strength deep inside her that Jas helped her discover to give her the courage she needed to sit up straight and face her enemy. "Your regrets will not earn my sympathy."

Zech studied the princess now, and his eyes lost their shield of regret. He looked at her with curiosity and pity, as though seeing ghost. "You sound just like her."

Arlesse felt the strength within her begin to crumble. She knew to whom Zech was comparing her, and there was something wrong in her mind about him having known her mother.

Zech caught the obvious reaction the princess had provided as her eyes widened in surprise at the subtle mention of her mother. He ignored the Republic soldiers and narrowed his focus solely to her. "Darian was a unique woman."

Arlesse felt her body instantly tense at the mention of her mother's name, and without realizing it, she instinctively and minutely flinched backwards. Jas sat up straighter, determined to buffer _Les'ika_ from whatever kind of attack this baron dared to launch on her. Even if Zech meant to have a benevolent conversation about _Les'ika's_ mother, Jas could see that it was tearing her up inside.

Gath and the others collectively prepared for the worst as they could see that the conversation had taken a turn none of them expected and that it had stuck a nerve with _Les'ika_.

Arlesse was aware of Jas beside her, and she took a breath to level her emotions. She was not alone right now. She had the good and decent men of Crimson surrounding her, their presence bringing her comfort.

Continuing to ignore the clone soldiers around them, Zech looked at the princess, taking notice to her tangled hair and her disarrayed clothing. He never expected she would have had the fortitude to survive any length of time out of her comforts in the palace. Apparently, this young princess had more surprises than anyone in the royal court could imagine. However, he had his own surprises for her, and he felt it was time to finally tell her things that he was certain had remained hidden from her in the sheltered and dream-like existence that Vollan allowed her to live within.

"Your father was helpless to Darian, smitten like a young boy in her presence. He knew their lives together were doomed from the start, but that didn't stop his pursuit. She had affections for another, and her plans to leave revolved around a man she met only a couple months before your father and she had finalized the plans for their marriage."

Arlesse closed her eyes and lowered her head. She had always believed that her mother simply wanted freedom, a chance to adventure and explore the galaxy. The letter Darian left for Arlesse never once mentioned anything about wanting to be with a man, a suitor who was not her father. Was her mother really as honest as her father always led her to believe she was? Had Arlesse's father lied to her about his involvement with her mother and that their relationship truly was only about the gain it would give him politically?

Zech paused only long enough for the princess to absorb the shock he threw at her. "The man who stole your mother had arrived abruptly on Tochin, his ship needing some repair or another. He stayed for a few days, spending an abundant amount of time with her. After they were together, Darian always looked flushed but…energized. There was a new spark in her eyes, a new light as though she had discovered something incredible."

Arlesse's eyes snapped open, and she felt a cold blade stab into her heart and shatter it. How could this man talk about her mother so…openly? Who was he to be witness to the dealings that took place with her mother years ago? She tried to think of something to say to Zech, but her emotions were running wild in anger, sadness, and resentment. No coherent thought could form in her mind, and she dared not speak when she was so flustered. It would only make her the foolish girl everyone believed she was.

Leaning forward now, Zech saw he had the princess' attention, and her sudden drawing of breath was evidence that her façade of strength had crumbled. She was far from carrying the dignity that her cousin Janelle held and even further from the woman that Darian was. "Your father knew your mother wanted to go with this man. He had no intentions to hold her back. Unfortunately, the disputes then began between the mining colony she ruled and the government he managed. Darian and Vollan knew they had to bring peace to the people again, and she agreed to postpone her leave. Some of us believe your father instigated the dispute so that he could have Darian, but that's just speculation, right?"

Arlesse felt the color drain from her face as the chill of Zech's words had seeped into her bones. Wounds she had fought for years to close had opened, new aches and pains filling in the empty voids she had built. She felt her throat growing tight and tried to swallow down the humiliation this man was bestowing on her for her parents' past.

Jas suddenly took _Les'ika's_ hand in his, gently trying to urge her to walk away. He couldn't stand seeing her breaking apart, becoming once again the child he found in Hazar's prison cell.

Zech didn't bother waiting with the rest of the story. He continued speaking, no longer concerned if one of these clones decided to blast him into oblivion. The princess obviously had never been told the details of her parents' lives. It was just pathetic that it came down to someone who was practically a stranger to divulge the particulars to her. "A couple months after the negotiations were done and the colony had made a truce, Darian found out she was pregnant with you. As was her agreement with your father, he would have the heir he required for the throne and she could leave. However, what she didn't plan on was falling in love with you. She was suddenly torn between the man who would take her into the galaxy and give her freedom…or the innocent daughter, the child she bore out of a marriage of necessity. Darian had postponed her departure for nearly a year, desperately wanting to see you grow up, but she knew that if she was to be free from her royal obligations, she had to remove herself from your life before you grew too attached to her. Your father tried to win her over, but when you were about eleven months old, the battle had been lost. Darian left Tochin and with her absence, many of us mourned a woman who could never be replaced."

Arlesse found herself trembling with a range of emotions that shifted from one to the other so quickly, it left her dizzy and feeling ill. She felt blind and deaf, betrayed and broken. Her freshly-opened wounds were swallowing her whole. Suddenly, she felt the grip on her hand, the grasp that conveyed concern and strength…and trust, an undying trust that he had earned from her. She recognized the touch, and the warmth of the gloved fingers seemed to have awakened her from a nightmare she didn't realize she was within.

Blinking hard, she turned towards the gray-armored man.

"_Udesii_," he told her, pulling her hand gently, a silent signal for her to follow him.

Arlesse breathed in deeply, remembering the _Mando'a_ word Jas explained to her earlier. She dared not look at the baron again for fear that she would release the explosion of emotions she wanted to purge. Instead, she concentrated on how Jas' large fingers encompassed her hand, and she stood from the ground, allowing him to lead her away from Zech.

As they walked deeper into the forest, Arlesse was numb to everything but Jas' touch. She wasn't even aware of the tears that silently lined her cheeks or the way the blanket fell from her shoulders and dragged on the ground behind her. She could only see her father's face, and the way he had always been honest with her. There was never a moment when she thought he had lied. Her father had told her that he shared a special relationship with her mother, and Arlesse always believed that Darian loved her father with the same enthusiasm that Vollan loved her. She never once thought that their marriage was nothing more than a political arrangement. The idea that her mother was…inspired by another man sickened her.

Jas saw on his HUD the sight of _Les'ika_ behind him, and it hurt him to see her shattered to a betrayed child. Her tears were not mourning one of his comrades this time but a fantasy she believed was true for her entire life. She looked like a pathetic waif, one of the survivors left behind after the Separatists had destroyed a city. Her clothing was no longer in the splendor of a royal princess, and her wild curls had been without proper care for days, leaving them nothing but a thick mane about her. The blanket she depended on for comfort had fallen off her shoulders, becoming little more than a burden for her to carry.

Jas stopped walking and turned to face her. He took the blanket in his hands and set it onto the ground. Gently he helped her onto the blanket and took a seat beside her. Confirming that they were far enough away from Zech and the others, he opened the seal to his helmet and set it onto the ground next to him.

Taking her hand into his again, Jas spoke softly but with assurance. "Zech will say anything to give the Separatists a chance at your world. He's trying to break you by using your parents' relationship against you. You can't be sure he's even telling the truth."

Arlesse shook her head and wiped one of her cheeks with her sleeve. She glanced at Jas but turned away quickly and decided that the empty patch of dirt on the ground was easier to concentrate her thoughts on instead. "Zech didn't deserve to know my mother. He made her sound…"

_Les'ika_ had paused for a long time and Jas decided to try and fill in the gap. He hoped she wouldn't find his choice of words insulting. "Disgraceful?"

Creasing her forehead at the word, Arlesse finally agreed. "Yes. But, that's not how Papa ever talked about her."

Jas sighed quietly, knowing he was in territory that was far too complicated from what he could ever comprehend. He had no parents to compare between _Les'ika's_ parents and the typical behaviors of parents who were not of royal obligations. All he could do was offer what his gut told him. "Don't let Zech cloud your thoughts, _Les'ika_. You know your father better than anyone. Do you believe he ever lied to you about your mother?"

Arlesse lifted her eyes from the ground and absorbed herself in Jas' dark irises, seeing nothing but truth in them. It scared her sometimes how he could be so honest, his words nothing but clarity. She thought back to the conversations she had with her father and the multitude of questions she had often asked him. Her father never once shielded his eyes when he talked about her mother. He only spoke about her in high regard, seeming to be proud of her in some way that Arlesse never understood. She had asked her father once if her mother loved him and without faltering he had told her yes.

Silently, Arlesse curled into Jas' chest, leaning her head against the armor plating. She closed her eyes as Jas wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from Zech's words and the deception he tried to plant. She understood now that Jas was right. Arlesse knew her father, and she knew her mother loved him. It was the politics and the games of court that she hated, the very same things her father tried to protect her from experiencing, the very same tricks that Zech now tried to play with her.

"I could seal his mouth shut with bandages from the medkit," Jas whispered softly. "Of course, he might look like some horror holovid character that way."

Arlesse couldn't help the soft giggle that suddenly escaped her. She brought her face up from the armor to look into Jas' eyes. She saw how his dark irises were concerned only with her safety and well-being. Then, the mischievous glint of a boy passed in his eyes, contradicting the experienced soldier he portrayed. It was that boy who made her laugh she realized. He would do anything to make her happy, and it was like looking into a reflection of her own innocence at times.

The boy in Jas' irises submerged again almost as soon as he appeared, and in his place, the compassionate soldier now returned. His voice was soft, as though he was initiating some secret plan. "If I know my _vode_, _Les'ika_, they have already made it so that Zech can't talk again until he's in front of a Republic interrogator."

Arlesse saw that he meant his words very seriously. She didn't know exactly how Jas' brothers would silence the baron, but she knew that Crimson had always seemed to be able to find some way to do things without sabotaging their missions. It was hard not to listen to them discussing their shady past when they talked, and she was honestly glad to hear something other than politics or unimportant gossip while in their presence. In fact, she found she particularly enjoyed the stories of their missions and was always amazed by how they had sporadically skirted on the edge of insubordination.

Arlesse wondered if she would have been able to live with the decision of telling these soldiers that she didn't want Zech to be able to hurt her again, and she was glad that she didn't have to make that decision any longer. The last thing she wanted was to feel sympathy for Zech, especially not after everything he had done to her and tried to do to her father.

Jas' helmet suddenly pinged for his attention, and Gath's voice came across with concern, not bothering to hide his anxiety at Jas' sudden departure. "_Jas, sitrep._"

Jas reached over for his bucket but as he looked to _Les'ika_, he offered an apology in his eyes for not being able to share the helmet communications with her. "I'll tell him you're feeling better, and I'll see how they handled Zech."

Arlesse nodded as she watched Jas enclose his head in the helmet and become silent to her.

"_Les'ika_ was pretty badly upset," Jas reported. "I've gotten her calmed down, but I think Zech will try more instigation."

"_Dusty gave him a tranquilizer…with Mouse's help. As far as _Les'ika_ is concerned, Zech's bruise is from falling onto the ground in the struggle_," Gath reported.

Jas immediately understood the unspoken scenario that had taken place after he took _Les'ika_ away from Zech's influence: Without any warning, Mouse decked the baron in the face and Dusty tranq'ed him while he was reeling from the blow.

Without pausing, Gath finished his observations. "_I agree that Zech will try to get to her again. But, the good news is that Mouse managed to rip the communications out of Zech's speeder. He's been working on rewiring it and connecting it to a power source after you both left._"

Jas was equally relieved and upset to hear the news about potential communications. He knew the sooner Mouse got it working the sooner the mission would come to an end. For as much as that would mean they would no longer be responsible for Zech, it also meant that his time with _Les'ika_ had gone on a virtual timer that was counting down to the end of their…he paused mentally. Would what they were doing even be considered a relationship, or was courtship the right term?

"_Are you okay?_" Gath now asked.

Jas forced his thoughts back to the moment. What he shared with _Les'ika_ didn't need to be labeled the way civilians did such things. He was just glad to have experienced the emotions they shared and was grateful that she had cared for him so openly. "I'm fine."

Gath's voice conveyed that he knew Jas was anything but fine. He was calm yet apologetic. "_You were warned that when the endex is called, you were going to have to leave her._"

"Don't worry, I will," Jas defended. After a moment, he added, "We'll be back soon."

Gath heard the communications shut down, and he sighed. He wasn't exactly frustrated with Jas – maybe disappointed with him or maybe happy for him. He couldn't tell which. None of the clones were ever supposed to bond with civilians, especially not romantically, and certainly not bond with any kind of royalty. Jas had obviously drowned himself in his newfound affections, these emotions that the Kaminoans had never planned on them experiencing. He was certain now that Crimson would had been reconditioned if those heartless scientists ever found out that any of their clone creations were trying to feel normal human sentiments.

Dusty put a hand on Gath's shoulder, his words coming through the helmet on the squad's private channel. "Jas isn't being malicious, and I know you're worried about him."

"She's a nice girl," Gath admitted. "Her kindness had done all of us some good, and I won't lie that I'll miss her, too. It's just that Jas will carry her heavier than the rest of us will. Maybe if she just wasn't, you know…royalty."

"Well if the rest of this world's royalty are more like this _shabuir_ than _Les'ika_, this isn't the place I'd want to spend my retirement," Dusty said, taking his hand from his brother's shoulder.

Gath shifted his attention now over to the once-again unconscious Baron Erle. "Do you think what he said to her was true about her mother and father?"

Dusty looked over Zech and felt his own anger building inside at how the man had so easily tore _Les'ika_ into shreds with just his words. He couldn't imagine the rage that Jas must have felt to see his girlfriend verbally beaten up. Suddenly, Dusty felt himself smirking. He'll have to jab the term "girlfriend" at Jas later and see what kind of reaction he can spark. Getting back to Gath's question, Dusty replied, "I think Zech's only regret is that he got caught as a traitor. He knows how to find the weakness that _Les'ika_ carries, and it didn't matter if he said the truth to her or not. He knows how to get into her head."

"Before Zech awakens, gag him," Gath ordered now. "I'm not going to let him break that girl again."

"Then, I call dibs on it," Mouse answered, briefly looking up from his work on the communications parts around him.

Gath and Dusty would have sworn that Mouse's helmet was smiling in that twisted way of his when he was about to thoroughly enjoy something.

Gath briefly wondered just what they had gotten themselves into by growing so close to _Les'ika_ and if any of them would ever be able to let her go.


	16. Chapter 15

_Author's Notes_: May you all have the best for 2010! I am hoping for my world to finally settle down and for my life to get back to normal, but it seems that there's always a new challenge every day.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 15**

_I wanted to give you a moment in time, an opportunity to remember. You needed to know __**who**__ you fight for, not just what and why._  
Cerina Browlin, liaison to RC-1168, "Dusty," during the Denon Mission

**Tochin Moon III  
786 Days ABG**

Jas held his helmet in his hands without looking up and found himself studying the dents and scratches, the reminders that he was a soldier who trained hard to be the best at what he does. His survival came from too many years of preparing for war in live-fire training exercises, and he knew that he shouldn't have survived at least a third of those simulated missions. For as much as he and his brothers fought amongst each other and bent the rules as necessary to get their jobs done, they also were one of the tightest knitted squads in the Republic Army. Gan had told them once that their bickering and fighting had made them stronger because they weren't afraid to be who they were meant to be. Their opinionated differences gave them the opportunity to see all angles of a problem or a situation and by doing so they had the ability to find the loopholes. Orders for Crimson were nothing but a guideline to be loosely followed, something they were given to outline the situation that lay ahead of them. How they handled the problem was entirely up to the way the situation had evolved by the time they got there.

Jas often considered himself lucky that he wasn't just one of the regular troopers who was limited in skills and knowledge. He couldn't imagine following orders with something that seemed like blindness to him. He saw how the troopers did as they were ordered, barely questioning it. He wondered why the Kaminoans had created so many of his clone brethren without the want to think beyond their orders and challenge such commands. However, Jas had decided that he should just be grateful that the Kaminoan scientists had given him and his brothers a little extra independent thinking, something that was required for the skills of a specialized soldier in a squad such as Crimson.

For a brief moment, Jas wondered what would have happened if he didn't have that independency and how it would have affected the bond he had formed with _Les'ika_. He was certain that if he had been developed with a lesser free will, he would never have taken the time to really look at her and see that she wasn't a material object he was ordered to retrieve and protect. Because he could think outside the conventional borders, he was able to see her as the human she was, the gentle girl who lived a life of safety and comfort that most beings only dreamed to experience. And, he knew that it wouldn't be much longer before he would be sending her back to that existence, saying farewell to her and ending a special moment in his life that had somehow changed him.

Setting the helmet onto the ground now, Jas glanced at _Les'ika_, realizing that he had no idea how he wanted to approach the subject of their time together coming to its finality. They weren't even supposed to have grown close, especially not in the manner that they had, and Jas knew that he should have prepared for this separation better. It was inevitable that they couldn't stay together, but he just could not deny the comfort he felt while in _Les'ika's_ presence. He knew he would never have that kind of blind acceptance from anyone else – especially a civilian – again. Why _Les'ika_ trusted him the way she did, he'll never understand, but he was ever grateful that someone outside of his tight-knit circle of brothers had.

Jas indulged himself for a few minutes with just watching _Les'ika_ and taking in the moment, as he knew that he would never be able to develop such affections for anyone else. Even if he would ever chance upon another woman in his short future, he honestly didn't want to develop this kind of attraction again. He knew he would not connect in the same way that he had with this princess, and he couldn't imagine that there could possibly be anyone else in the entire galaxy like her. It didn't seem possible that there would ever be another woman who exhibited the same kindness and consideration towards him and his brothers.

Jas found himself suddenly thinking about how Zech had called _Les'ika's_ mother unique, but Jas came to understand that _Les'ika_ was the most unique being he had ever encountered. She was a contradiction like he had never known and for as much as he wanted to protect her, he wanted to give her everything she would ever need to be free. He wanted her to see how she was strong and intelligent, and that her sheltering had only delayed her chance to experience life, not extinguish it.

Jas contemplated whether he should say something or touch her as he saw that she had remained silent, seeming to be deep in thought. However, he decided that he would just leave her be for the moment and take in his own memories while his eyes moved about the way the sun touched upon the wild, brown curls that spilled around her back and shoulders. The natural light gave her hair a highlighting of hues that he had never seen before, and some of the strands that covered her back were streaked with a shade of red so dark it blended seamlessly into the brown. Jas suddenly wondered if she was even aware of the colors in her hair and that when the sun struck it how this kind of hidden brilliance shone through.

Swallowing hard, Jas pushed aside the thought, conscious of how close that related to _Les'ika_ as a person. She had stayed hidden for so long that those closest to her couldn't even find her anymore, and none of them dared to try finding the treasure that was right under their noses. Sadly, it took the likes of a cloned man who only knew how to fight a war to discover the true woman who was hiding in plain sight from the rest of the galaxy.

Not looking over yet to Jas, Arlesse was aware that he had finished his silent conversation inside his helmet. She had taken the time while he was busy earlier to position herself so that her legs were bent toward her chest and her arms were crossed over her knees. She now rested her chin upon her crossed arms and simply studied the greenery around her. She watched the birds flying above, and she tried to find the small creatures that continued to rattle within the bushes and scurry the leaves. The only time she ever came so close to so much wildlife was in her garden back at the palace, but even there everything was cultivated and tamed.

The trees in the expansive garden were of a breed that would not grow past a certain height, and the shrubbery had been trimmed back regularly so that everything stayed within its predetermined spacing. Despite the limitations imposed on the wildlife in the garden of her father's palace, however, it was vastly beautiful, and for that she had no complaints. It was full of colors and scents, textures and shades.

In the spring and summer the garden was a rainbow of every hue in the spectrum and it was filled with an intoxicating blend of sweet, floral aromas. In the season of autumn, when Tochin went through an abbreviated cycle of hibernation, she would walk amongst the falling leaves, finding an odd satisfaction to the crunching sound they generated beneath her feet. Tochin never produced a winter so she had never seen snow other than in holos or read about it in her flimsi novels. Because of the lack of a winter season, the end of autumn would bring forth the new buds, as nature cycled through rapidly on her world.

Thinking about it now, Arlesse came to realize that the garden was a place where she spent most of her time, simply enjoying the peace it provided. It was where she could lose herself in the flimsiplast stories of adventure and excitement, stories about heroes and opportunists. They were the stories that drifted her away to other worlds, other places that didn't exist. She sometimes felt like she was a witness walking through those stories, connecting in emotional ways to some of the characters, and she always read them with baited breath, hoping that the ending would be as happy as she could imagine.

Some of the tales ended tragically and those always left her daydreaming about an alternate ending. She remembered reading once a story where the hero died in a blaze of glory to save the lives of the unusual group of beings he had befriended. Other tales concluded with an ending that left her content, with a desire to reread the story again for the joy it had brought her. One of those stories, in particular, was about a young and humble shopkeeper who had fallen into a multitude of romantic misadventures until he learned that he was the heir to a fortune that had been stolen from him when he was switched at birth.

Reminiscing now about some of her recent exploits with Crimson, Arlesse wondered if there was ever a chance that someone had written a story about a situation like the one she was within. She tried to speculate the possibility that there was a tale somewhere about a princess like her who wasn't a strong heroine, but had the opportunity to encounter a brave warrior like Jas, and how they both discovered an attraction that they shared while surviving their adventures. Then, she dismissed the thought quickly as she realized that sheltered princesses and heroic clone soldiers weren't something anyone would want to read about. Honor and chivalry were forgotten terms in the realm of her father's court, and she believed that the rest of galaxy probably wasn't much better with displays of honor.

Raising her eyes up, she looked to the endless ceiling of the blue sky, watching the treetops sway lightly. The scene above almost reminded her of paintbrushes touching upon an empty azure canvas, swirling white clouds into the infinite distance. Her own world – this moon of Tochin – which she had never been able to explore so liberally, was wild and free in ways she only dared to dream about. She understood now that there were no rules for colors to be in a certain range or for shrubs to be forbidden to extend past their borders. Nothing was expected of the life around her, nothing beyond just being. This moon's nature lived in its own rhythm and harmony, never being suppressed into any kind of frivolous restrictions or laws that were created solely because of someone's foolishness.

"How am I supposed to go back?" she asked softly, not exactly a direct question to Jas but simply venting out loud to the life around her.

Jas tried to follow her eyes, straining to see what he couldn't beyond the forest and the sky and realized that he had been wondering the same about his own life. Resolving instead to look at his armor, he decided it was easier to think while looking at something familiar than the expansive world around him. Silently, he also had questioned how he was supposed to return to a life of war and just forget the emotions that he had developed for a woman who left him starving for her touch and kindness.

"I don't know," he answered quietly.

Arlesse turned now to Jas, watching as he flexed his fingers in his glove, seeming to be looking at the armored shell around the back of his hand like it was some kind of alien skin.

"Don't worry about Zech talking to you," Jas told her as he dropped his hand back to his lap and abruptly changed the subject. He needed to quickly get back to facts and reasoning. Thinking in factual terms was the only way he could get on with telling her that sooner rather than later, they would be apart. "He's been sedated, and when he awakens, he won't be able to talk."

Arlesse silently studied Jas, afraid to ask what exactly Crimson had done. However, after a moment, she decided that she would accept the actions that Jas' brothers took with Zech. She knew that she would not have been able to dissuade them otherwise, and it was obvious that the less Zech said to her, the less she would have to listen to whatever twisted words he would try to influence on her.

Jas took a long pause before telling her the rest of what Gath had told him, again building his resolve to face the fact that their fantasy that was about to be destroyed. He was foolish to have ever thought that feeling affections for her could be turned off like the switches inside his _buy'ce_. "Mouse is working on fixing up a communications device."

Arlesse sighed with understanding and then spoke softly. "That means I'm almost home now, aren't I?"

Jas nervously scratched the back of his neck, realizing that when around him she had proven that she was sharper than she gave herself credit to be. "Mouse is good with stuff like that. It probably won't take him all that long, maybe a couple hours."

Picking at the frayed edge on her skirt now, Arlesse closed her eyes softly and breathed heavily for a moment. She thought about the brave men who saved her life, and despite their unconventional ways of dealing with their situation, they were never less than noble with her. Opening her eyes, Arlesse smiled wistfully. "I'll never forget you, or any of your brothers."

Jas' eyes dropped suddenly, and he caught himself strangely nervous as he tried to rub out one of the carbon scoring marks on his wrist gauntlet. After a futile attempt, he realized it was one of the places where her hand had touched upon him, and he was trying to remove a mark she had clearly traced only a couple days ago with her small fingers.

Feeling like a lost child suddenly, Jas told her softly, "I won't forget you, either."

"Going home doesn't feel right," she breathed quietly, eyes blinking hard against whatever it was that caused her to hesitate in her thoughts. "It…"

Jas looked to her waiting for her to finish, but she attempted to make her words remain a mystery. Her long pause extended, and Jas couldn't stand the confusion she had just reaped. He needed clarity and needed to understand why she suddenly felt that her home wasn't the place for her. He needed to be certain that he wasn't returning her to further danger. "Isn't that where you belong?"

Arlesse smiled in a depreciating way and shook her head as though trying to forget whatever it was she had initially planned to say. However, the words fell from her lips before she could stop them. She felt as though she was revealing even more of her weaknesses, but in Jas' presence it became more of an absolution to her failures than an admittance of her faults. "If by 'belong' you mean because of my title and status that I need to live there, then yes. But, you know that I've never learned to play political games, and you saw how Zech practically shredded me with his words. Sadly, that kind of malicious attack is how my father's court can be sometimes."

"But, you told me that your father does all he can to keep you from harm," Jas gently argued.

Arlesse closed her eyes, and swallowed hard. When she opened her eyes, she caught Jas' irises with her own. "He does, Jas, but there's no place in the royal court for me. Friends are something I've been denied for most of my life. Udi was the last person I really confided in, and I've been without her for a few years now. The servants can't look beyond my title, and those with titles think my father is weak for having raised me as a normal child instead of as his heir. Papa broke the standards and expectations of what a royal successor is supposed to be. By allowing me to step down from my royal station and giving me the choice to elect my cousin to my duties, it rejected me from my peers."

Shaking her head now and feeling that pain in her chest that she often felt for her father, she softly said, "The truth is that they punish Papa for being a father, and they try to make it my fault. That's really what he protects me from."

Jas felt his fist clench suddenly, wishing for some way to keep her from going home. Unfortunately, he knew that such thoughts were impossible, and it would only lead them into trouble that neither of them needed. Execution for desertion wasn't exactly the way to help her. Instead, he said, "Your father sounds a little like Gan. He didn't care what was expected of him. He did what he felt was right."

Arlesse now chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, thinking about everything she had been through as well as the newfound emotions she shared and how she knew she had to discard them as though they never existed. She was afraid of what everyone in the palace would think of her and her father now that she had developed fondness for a Republic soldier, a man who was so cheated out of life that to even hold her hand was considered a crime. She knew that if the Tochin nobles ever found out about her affections for Jas, they would have even more fuel to throw at her father. In her usual and quiet way, Arlesse would continue to protect her father because she knew that the nobles didn't always think of him as strong. He consistently put his concerns for his daughter first, and it was often frowned upon. Arlesse now understood was why there was a squad of specialized soldiers protecting her. They were here solely because of her father's demands, not because of a vote that came from the entire royal congregation.

Closing her eyes, Arlesse fought to suppress the burning in her eyelids from the tears that were trying to form there. She tried to reason that it wasn't sensible to be so distraught over this man that she barely knew. Jas wasn't supposed to be anything more than a soldier in a squad who was assigned her retrieval from a kidnapper. If the nobles who called him a flesh droid were supposed to be right, he wouldn't have been able to be so kind and gentle with her. He shouldn't have been able to feel the similar emotions that she felt and share them. But, nothing could change how they had developed compassion and an attachment for each other. Knowing it was all about to end broke her heart in a way that hurt more than any rejection she had ever received from any member of the royal court.

Opening her eyes now, Arlesse knew that she would never be able to look at the men in the Tochin court with the same respect and affection that she once thought she had for them. The way Jas looked at her and touched her could never be replicated by anyone else. He had no connection with her politically and no wants to gain any kind of status. All he wanted from her was what she was willing to share with him, and that made her want to give him everything.

"Will you…" she paused, making certain that her eyes were locked with his, letting Jas see how much he meant to her. "Will you stay with me, until you no longer can?"

Jas saw the concern in her eyes, the compassion that he knew he was never supposed to know. It was this part of her that he could never resist, and how he had managed to do so for an entire day, he'll never understand. Why he had pushed her aside then made no sense to him now, and he was angry with himself for having wasted countless hours avoiding her and all she wished to share with him. He saw so clearly how _Les'ika_ cared for him and how she had developed compassion for a soldier who was never given a choice in the decision that his life was to be nothing more than an instrument to fight a war.

Kneeling before her, Jas took _Les'ika's_ hands in his and stared into her blue irises, finding everything in them that the Kaminoans denied him from ever knowing. She was innocent and kind, compassionate and gentle. He could clearly see that she had developed a deeply imbedded sense of trust and faith in him that he had not ever known from anyone before. No matter how much he and his brothers trusted each other, what she revealed to him was different somehow. It was intimate in a way that he could not entirely comprehend; however, he experienced it instinctively in a way that made him strangely feel…whole.

Forcing the curious emotions aside, Jas told her, "When they order me to stand down, I have to obey, but until that moment, I promise that I will stay right beside you."

Suddenly, angry voices carried through the forest and the sound of a scuttle broke through the silence.

"We need to get back," Jas told _Les'ika_ as he helped her to her feet and grabbed his helmet while she took hold of the blanket from the ground.

* * *

**Tochin Moon III  
786 Days ABG**

Gath ran a gloved hand over his hair, scratching at an itch he didn't really believe he had but felt inclined to get rid of anyway. He was worried about Jas and how his brother seemed to have shut down from them. He tried to warn him and prepare him that such an attachment would only lead to emotional agony. Even though Gath never had the opportunity to experience any kind of relationship with a woman, he had his own experience with attachment when he was still only about four years old chronologically.

Gath remembered back to one night when he couldn't sleep due to a particularly hard day with blaster training. For whatever reason, his mark was off, and he could only graze the targets. The Kaminoans ushered him to get his eyes checked as well as a full physical, and everything had resulted in normal ranges. He managed to avoid the reconditioning chamber thanks to Gan telling the Kaminoans he was just having an off day and that he would pull out of the uncharacteristic mood after a good night's sleep.

Gath had taken _Ba'vodu's_ advice and gone to bed early that night. However, his sleep was interrupted as he felt something scratching under the blanket near his feet. Waking, Gath had discovered a small, comlink-sized rodent scurrying around beneath the covers. Rather than call an alarm or simply kill the small leathery creature, he caught it in his hands. Gath remembered waiting to be bitten, but the tiny mammal simply sniffed at him as though looking for food and warmth. Offering what he could, Gath allowed the creature to curl up within his blanket. Over the next couple days, he had sneaked in small portions of food and took care of the mammal like any other curious boy his age would have.

His brothers in Crimson, who shared the room with him, simply ignored Gath's newfound pet. They decided that if he wanted to get into trouble for having it, then they would feign stupidity and offer no knowledge of the creature. In fact, neither Crimson nor Gath ever told Gan about the rodent for fear that he would be resentful of the creature since Gan had openly admitted once that he hated rodents.

Gath had successfully cared for the creature for nearly two weeks. Then, one day as he returned from a particularly fine day of training, he returned to his room exhausted but feeling good and looking forward to playing with the rodent. Unfortunately, when he arrived in the room, he saw that one of the Kaminoans had already discovered his tiny pet. Without so much as a blink of regret, the Kaminoan injected the rodent with a small vile, and the creature had died within just a couple seconds.

Gath had tried not to scream and cry, but the child within him had done just that. He yelled and screamed every foul _Mando'a_ word he had ever heard Gan and the other training sergeants use. At the very least, he wanted the closure of taking the body to a proper burial. Instead, the Kaminoan tossed it down a garbage chute without so much as a kind word. By the time Gan and the rest of Crimson arrived to see what the commotion was about, there was nothing more for Gath to do but close himself down in his numb state and never look at anything but his brothers with so much concern again.

"Jas needs this," Dusty commented as his voice suddenly awoke Gath from his memories of that small creature and the heartache it left him as a child. Proceeding to take off his helmet and check Zech's pulse to make sure that their prisoner was still adhering to the tranquilizer safely, Dusty finished, "He has to say goodbye to her on his terms."

Gath felt a flash of sudden jealousy because he realized that Jas would have the opportunity for closure that he never had. Forcing himself to mentally change the subject, concentrating instead on their present situation, Gath focused on Dusty rather than his memories. "You've supported Jas' attachment to her from the start, _ner vod_. Why?"

Dusty turned away quickly and feigned checking Zech's restraints. Every time he saw Jas and _Les'ika_ together, he had flashbacks to his own attachment, his one single night with a woman. It wasn't anything more than a "date" that included a long night afterwards, but still it was attachment. It didn't matter if the attachment lasted for a couple days like Jas was doing or for a few hours like Dusty had experienced, it was still against the regulations.

Dusty shook his head silently. He was certain that a starlight kiss was all either Jas or _Les'ika_ wanted. Instead, they grew closer with every passing moment, consumed by a bond that was refusing to release them from its grasp.

Turning back to Gath now, Dusty told him, "You saw how they looked at each other."

"But how did you know…"

Dusty shrugged off the question, interrupting his brother's thoughts. "Maybe you should start watching holofilms. They tell a lot about people."

"Then, what would yours be about?" Gath asked.

That made Dusty laugh. "A blaster-firing psycho."

"Doesn't that cover all of us?" Mouse threw in as he stripped another wire and twisted the ends, attempting to wrap them onto one of the screws of the power supply. The gray box he had been reworking was already starting to show signs of life as a set of lights blinked on for a couple seconds before shutting off again. Mouse had been trying to gently ease power into the comm. so that it wouldn't fry out the circuitry and leave them with nothing more than a useless contraption.

Gath's voice grew serious, the concern obvious as he addressed Dusty again. "Are you jealous over Jas?"

Dusty stepped back from Zech and moved towards his kit that had been left on the ground. He started to put away the supplies he had pulled out earlier while he was looking for the tranquilizer. "You're not serious Gath? Did you forget why I told you I had the bruise on my face? I merely teased Jas about _Les'ika_, and he did this."

Gath followed his brother and put a solid hand on his shoulder. His voice was calm, trusting. "Well, I know that you've been hiding something for a while now. I haven't pressed on it, but…"

Dusty thought he could get away with omitting the fact that Jas punched him because of his admittance to his involvement with Cerina on Denon. Unfortunately, it seemed that Gath was sensing more than Dusty wanted to reveal. Brushing his hair from his forehead with his fingers, Dusty gave Mouse a quick glance before looking back at Gath. Maybe the time had finally come to confess to his brothers how he risked their lives for his own selfish curiosity so many months ago. Part of him truly was jealous, but not at Jas or _Les'ika_. Instead he was jealous because they were able to express their emotions openly in front of Crimson and not live a lie every moment of every day.

Even though Dusty had no intentions to pursue Cerina again, he was tired of hiding that moment in his life from his brothers. He still believed that the truth would come out eventually, and it was better to do so while they were alone and secluded in this forest than wait until their unit was shuffled back into the Army again, trying to maintain their independency and secrecy amongst their more distant brothers.

Quietly, Dusty uttered, "Denon."

Gath's eyes widened in surprise at the mention of such an old mission, but he still didn't entirely understand the significance.

"Cerina," Dusty elaborated carefully. He knew he had to delicately word his accounts of that night. "When my communications went silent, it wasn't due to a device malfunction. She and I…well, I didn't think you'd want to hear what was going on, because we did more than you'll ever have to worry about Jas trying with _Les'ika_."

Gath's jaw suddenly clenched tightly and his hand came from Dusty's shoulder, closing into a tight fist that was ready to strike. The comm. conversations that had taken place that night flashed through Gath's memory in a mere moment. He remembered how Dusty had suddenly disappeared from the comm. grid, and they debated whether it would have been worth it to raid the apartment. Gath often wondered why he hesitated to do so, and now he understood what his instincts had told him during that mission. Unable to speak, Gath merely allowed the disappointment in his irises to bore into Dusty like one of those Jedi's lightsabers would into his flesh.

Mouse looked up now, and his fury clearly covered his features. "You risked us all to be with that woman?"

Dusty's eyes passed from one brother to the other, knowing that he deserved whatever they wanted to throw at him now. He had endangered all his brothers – the entire Clone Army – just for the chance to know humanity for one night. He should have returned right away to Crimson in their hidden apartment to give them the data that Cerina had supplied to him. Instead, he stayed with her for a couple hours, learning about the intimate relations that clones weren't allowed to experience.

Dusty had enough of hiding that night, and if his squad brothers wanted to sentence him to some fly-by-night reconditioning chamber or to a Deece-induced court-martial, then he knew it was always just a matter of time before they would discover the truth and saw that he was punished for his actions in a manner that they deemed appropriate.

Dusty kept his arms loosely by his sides and made no attempt to defend himself as he maintained a voice that was soft and even. "We both know that it was one of our first real missions, and I was younger, stupider. Now I carry the guilt with me every moment of every day of how I could have killed us all if it had worked out differently. You have no idea how many times a day I run through the what-ifs of what could have happened."

"There's no 'if' about it. None of us would be here now, wanting to kill you for your traitorous actions if you didn't get that data to us," Mouse seethed, his voice replicating a Nexu ready to strike.

"Jas basically said the same thing," Dusty admitted. "But, I know what it's like to be in his place. If I would have let Jas walk away from _Les'ika_ without so much as holding her hand, then that regret would be eating him alive worse than his accelerated aging ever could. I don't regret what Cerina did for me, but I would have regretted it if I walked away from her."

Gath closed his eyes and dropped his fist, exhaling deeply. Were they all doomed to attachments that none of them could have? He rubbed his face hard with his hands and fought every instance of jealousy that tried to flare up within him. No, Dusty wasn't jealous, not by a long shot, he realized. It was Gath who had developed that emotion. He was jealous for not having an attachment and for not being able to bring closure to the only attachment he had ever known from back when he was a child.

Mouse, however, was not going to sit by idly while Gath went into one of his silent philosophical debates. He placed the communications parts on the ground next to him quickly, with the organization of an obsessive-compulsive scientist. Then, without warning, he slammed Dusty onto the ground. He raised his fist to strike him in the face, preparing to pummel his brother until his frustration passed. However, he hesitated to strike as he saw Dusty staring up at him without any spark of defense from the beating he knew he deserved.

"_Di'kut_!" Mouse growled, slamming him into the ground again. "At least pretend to fight back and make it worth something."

"No," Dusty told him calmly.

"Stand down, Mouse," Gath ordered wearily.

Mouse ignored Gath and kept Dusty pinned, refusing to relent the fist that still hovered with the urge to strike. However, before it could move, something grabbed it and restrained it behind his back. Mouse spun his head to see Gath behind him, holding him from striking Dusty.

"I said stand down," Gath repeated, his voice dropping a notch and allowing the edge to get sharper.

Jas and Arlesse had come around the trees and shrubs, encountering the scene of Crimson in a gut-wrenching standoff, and Arlesse grasped Jas' hand stronger, not knowing where to even begin placing her sympathy. Her stomach plummeted at how there was anger and resentment deep in these soldiers' eyes. Her eyes glanced quickly at the unconscious form of Zech as he remained unmoving with the restraints behind his back and a thick strip of medical gauze wrapped around his mouth, tied tightly in the back.

Eyes coming quickly back to Crimson and not certain why or what possessed her to do so, she simply begged, "Please don't do this."

Crimson turned to _Les'ika_, her voice the last sound any of them expected to hear in the quiet of the forest. They responded instantly to the sadness in her voice for them, able to hear the concern she exhibited as she saw that they had suddenly become enemies rather than brothers.

Arlesse took a shaky breath, aware of these soldiers instantly giving her their full attention and she wasn't exactly sure what she was to do now. She hadn't planned on them even listening to her, but they had. They respected her enough to heed her words, and now she had no idea what to do about it.

"What happened?" Jas asked, trying to get a sense on why his brothers were suddenly at each other again. It wasn't uncommon to him, but it had obviously given _Les'ika_ cause for concern.

Gath continued to keep Mouse away from Dusty as he wearily explained, "Denon. We finally know the truth of that night."

Jas gently released _Les'ika's_ hand and moved towards Dusty. He reached his hand out and allowed his brother to grasp his, hauling him to his feet. "Then, we can finally put it behind us and move on."

"Dusty nearly killed us," Mouse argued, trying to pull his arm free without harming Gath.

"And, so have a number of others," Jas shot back. "Did you forget all the times we received bad intel? Or, what about that Jedi Padawan who didn't follow his master's orders?"

"Jas is right, _ner vod_," Gath agreed, easing his grasp on Mouse while keeping his voice calm. "Dusty screwed up. We all screwed up. This whole _shabla_ war is screwed up."

Mouse took advantage of Gath releasing him and moved towards Zech, rolling him over with his boot. "And because of _di'kuts_ like this one who harm innocent girls like her, we're expected to fix the galaxy's screw ups."

Arlesse finally spoke, watching Crimson settle down from their outburst. "We're humans. We make mistakes. Why is that so hard for you to accept?"

"We were trained to be better," Dusty told her. "Mistakes weren't tolerated and were often deadly."

"And, being a traitor meant 'shoot on sight,'" Mouse grumbled, the hatred in his brown eyes forcing Arlesse to step back a few inches. After a moment, he realized the fear he had prompted in her, and now he saw that fright again, the same fright that men like Hazar and Zech had instilled in her. Dropping his voice and looking at her with regret for being yet another man who would scare her, he told her, "I'm sorry, _Les'ika_."

"Why is Dusty a traitor?" she asked softly, her eyes darting around Crimson. She saw the genuine regret in Mouse's eyes for snapping at her, but she had already decided that she would never do anything to cross him if she could avoid it.

"He broke protocol on a mission to be with a woman," Gath explained, deciding not to get into any more details.

Arlesse felt her fear change from the ire of Mouse's intentions towards Dusty to suddenly fearing for Jas' life. Her voice was now shaky and tight. "Will you treat Jas like this after you leave Tochin? Will you punish him because I made the mistake of caring?"

"What?" Gath asked, obviously taken aback by the questions.

Jas moved to _Les'ika_ and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently with reassurance.

"It's not the same," Mouse told her.

"How?" Arlesse dared to ask. She needed to understand what her actions with Jas would cause him. Bringing him harm was the last thing she intended, and if someone had him killed because of her… She closed down the thought, praying it would not come that.

"You don't hold the Clone Army's survival in your hands," Mouse rationalized.

"No, but she cares just as strongly for us as Cerina does," Dusty answered. "Cerina's only fault was that she was too close to the war and chose to partake in it. _Les'ika_ was a bystander, an innocent, who was dragged into this mess against her will. Besides, I thought we were the Reject Squad. Since when did breaking and bending rules no longer apply to us?"

"This is why I hate people," Mouse complained as he moved away from everyone and went back to his work on the communications device. "Too many _shabla_ contradictions."

"I think you're forgiven," Jas said, looking at Dusty. "Mouse let you live, and he wouldn't have if he didn't want you to."

"He just better not screw up again," Mouse muttered, picking up the electronic and mechanical pieces that he hoped would restore their communications.

Gath exhaled heavily, trying to weigh the last few days as well as the months that Dusty had been holding in his secret. Perhaps, each of them held their own secrets, and eventually each of those secrets would come to light at some point in their lives. He just hoped that they would all find forgiveness and closure before it was too late for any of them.

As though realizing an answer to a question Gath was just aware that he had, he reached forward and took Dusty's forearm in his hand, the Mandalorian way of making a vow. The time had come for closure and forgiveness, and it had to start with him. With a voice that was sincere and calm, Gath promised, "We bury it here and mention it no more."

Dusty nodded with respect, accepting his brother's vow. It was time for them to become brothers once again. "_Ni vorer_."


	17. Chapter 16

_Author's Notes_: My heartfelt thanks to everyone who has been keeping up with the story, and a warm welcome to the new readers who have since then discovered this little tale. The interest is most appreciated!

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 16**

_I always thought they'd be the ones to survive. They thrived on defiance, and our training sergeant, Gan Pohin, spent more time defending them than was tolerated by the other sergeants. Eventually, everyone on Kamino had dubbed them the "Reject Squad." Even I had thought that they might pull off some defiant miracle here on Tochin and walk out of the ashes of Hazar's wreckage. I regret having felt hope for my rival brothers, and I understand a new pain now, the pain of losing those I considered my family._  
Clone Commander, CC-2341, "Tarj" discussing his grief with King Vollan Psach

**Tochin Moon III  
786 Days ABG**

Mouse popped another raw RubyFruit into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully as he continued the task of getting what was once a speeder's communications station working. After things had settled down with Dusty's revelation about Denon, _Les'ika_ had taken some time away from the group to find something productive to do. Jas, as always, was faithfully by her side, and when the two of them returned, they had brought with them more RubyFruit and a few handfuls of yellow berries that Jas insisted were delicious despite their tartness.

Mouse still wasn't certain what he thought about the kind of devotion that Jas could so easily exhibit for _Les'ika_, and he didn't like the idea of narrowing his focus down so tightly to just one person. Then again, Mouse usually was a very narrow man by nature, but there was something liberating to him about working one-on-one with machines and weapons as opposed to sentient beings. Confining himself to any one person left him thinking in terms of claustrophobia. At least with the machinery, he could walk away from it and leave it alone for a while without having to worry about whether his inattention was causing concern for his absence.

Putting the rest of the raw RubyFruit into one of his belt pouches, Mouse decided to indulge himself with the remainder of his treats later. He preferred the fruit cooked, especially after _Les'ika_ had spoiled him with it prepared that way, but there wasn't any sense in making a fire in the early evening. If they decided that they would stay in their current position until the morning, then they would work on a creating fire, and he was certain that the princess would keep herself busy cooking their newfound hoard at that time.

Mouse poked his fingers through the scattered pieces of the communications equipment and knew he had postponed fixing the apparatus for as long as he could, realizing that none of them could stop the inevitable. They were men destined for war, and even though Mouse would be happy somewhere doing general repair work, he knew such a life for him would never be. He just hoped that Jas would adjust back to the life of a soldier as quickly as Dusty had after Denon. In fact, now that Mouse thought about it, he was harder on Dusty earlier today than he needed to be. His brother had never let on that anything had happened that night with Cerina Browlin. In fact, Dusty had returned to the apartment his usual self, not some man so changed that he was unrecognizable. Mouse suddenly wondered how hard that must have been for Dusty, to pretend as though he never experienced a night with a woman. It had to be making him insane on some level for having to endure an experience so personal and not have anyone who could relate to his concerns. Mouse silently reasoned that maybe enduring the silence Dusty had for so long had been the cause for why his brother had grown increasingly trigger-happy in the last few months.

Mentally grumbling for allowing his concentration to get further distracted with thoughts that he didn't want to be thinking about, Mouse knew that the gray box before him would never get repaired if he kept daydreaming. Looking at the device, it was no larger than his helmet, and the outside casing made it look like it had been through a war. Ironically, Mouse found that rather funny because, technically, Zech's transport actually was involved in a war, or at least was the result of choosing the opposing side in one. Unfortunately, however, the more Mouse worked on the comm. box, the more he had realized just what a state of disrepair it had been in because of the way detonation charges exploded. Some of the damage he had come across was minor, simple fixes like a couple of the protective sleeves being stripped and shredded away from the wires. There was even a screw that had been bent beyond repair, and Mouse had earlier found alternate ways to remove it so that he could rework the delicate machinery as well as the circuits inside. His attempts to open the dented casing had eventually been successful before their scuttle with Dusty, but now he was beginning to battle against the fading daylight.

Dusk continued rolling into the wooded land and Mouse was ever aware of how it was causing the shadows to grow darker. With the light fading quickly, Mouse now placed his _buy'ce_ on his head, using the zooming capabilities to enhance the smaller details on the components while he had the headlamps activated to brighten his workspace. He knew he had to work even more quickly now, before dusk would finally give way to night, and he decided to just hone his thoughts solely onto the equipment before him.

Dusty stayed by Zech, keeping a vigil on the baron, especially now that he had awakened. The traitorous noble had enough sense to realize the predicament he was in and came to the conclusion that if he didn't cooperate, Crimson would just continue to keep him unconscious at their discretion.

Shortly after Zech had awakened, Dusty had dragged him into the woods to allow the baron a few moments to handle his body functions, not out of any respect for the man's dignity, but simply because none of them wanted to be bothered cleaning any messes.

Dusty maintained his dark sense of humor about it all as he and Zech moved through the woods on their "nature walk," jibing that he had uncoordinated feet and he might accidentally trip Zech into a Pallid Viper's nest or slip while he had his gauntlet blade out and how such a cut would attract a Fangbird that they could use to make into another decent meal. Not once did Dusty offer to remove Zech's gag, and no one offered him any of their water or rations. In fact, Dusty went as far as being certain that Zech kept his back to _Les'ika_ at all times and was warned that if he even attempted any eye contact towards her, it would result in far worse treatment that what he had already sustained.

Jas had settled himself into a nook between a couple trees and some shrubs where the baron had no visual on him. Arlesse had accompanied Jas shortly afterwards and sat beside him lost in her own thoughts. The two of them had maintained their distance from the group but remained close enough to be of assistance should Jas be needed. Earlier while they were picking RubyFruit and the yellow berries that Jas had learned were called Tartlets, they savored whatever precious moments they could. Jas asked questions about every plant and animal they came across, hungry to know every facet of _Les'ika's_ world through her eyes. He wanted to remember Tochin as a part of her and not just through what was fed to him in his flash training.

Arlesse, likewise, learned everything she could about Kamino and growing up around identical faces. She even had Jas tell her about the training sergeants, the Mandalorian warriors who made every clone into a soldier. She found herself fascinated by the descriptions of the armor and colors the Mandalorian trainers wore. Jas also told her about the core beliefs in the Mandalorian culture, how family bonds were more than just blood, and it made her understand even more how these soldiers were so devoted to each other. She felt highly privileged for having been able to share in Crimson's tightly woven circle, and she wished she could find some comparable way to thank them for their generosity with her.

Curling herself against Jas' armor, Arlesse, felt a comforting warmth in her chest as Jas' arm encircled her. She felt safe and accepted with him, content in a way she had never known before and as she rested her head against his shoulder cap, Arlesse silently studied the outline of Jas' face. She watched for the child in his eyes and the minute facial expressions that he made while deep in his thoughts. Arlesse knew she had no reason to ever doubt Jas' promise to stay by her side, and now that he had been so true to his words, she believed that he would never walk away from her without putting up a decent fight.

Jas had instinctively wrapped his arm around _Les'ika_ and wondered how he would ever return to war again, holding deadly weaponry rather than the softness and warmth of this young woman. He wondered if she would haunt him during moments when he needed his concentration the most and if he would be able to block out those memories without feeling guilty for doing do. He tried to imagine how he would ever sleep at night without listening to her soft breathing or her sighing while in close proximity. He had grown accustomed to those sounds, intuitively aware of when she was uncomfortable or battling a nightmare, and he was certain that once he and his brothers left Tochin, he would never know any of that again.

Jas was aware of Les'ika watching him, still considering himself fortunate to have experienced the acceptance and compassion bestowed upon him by a civilian. He had no idea how or why they connected, and if he was unsure about other clones experiencing romance, he was certain that he was the only one who had earned the affections of a princess. For a few days, Jas had been important to someone other than his brothers and that was something he would undoubtedly never forget.

Gath moved closer to Mouse now and returned his helmet to his head as well, using his spotlamps to offer additional light. As far as Gath was concerned, Dusty had Zech contained, and there was no sense interfering with Jas and _Les'ika_. They needed their time to continue their goodbye, and Gath had decided that their ongoing relationship was a war he no longer wanted to take on battling.

Static suddenly broke into the quiet moment, a cascade of crackles and garbles filling the air. Occasionally, something that sounded like a voice would filter though the noise, but it was again drowned out by the static.

Mouse kept adjusting the frequency through the communications box and had even taken a long metal wire and reached it upwards into the low branches above his head, hoping to get better reception.

Mouse flipped a few more switches on the back end of the gray case and pushed another series of buttons when the static finally died down, ebbing like an ocean wave going back out to sea. A man's voice began to grow louder through the speakers, as he was broadcasting a weather report for the local civilians.

Moving another switch and honing in on one of the few frequencies Mouse knew was designated only for clone traffic, he caused the weather reporter to fade. In that man's place came a familiar voice, sharing the same accent that all the clones in the GAR did. The clone sounded as though he was verbally communicating a routine patrol report about the area he was surveying near the palace gates.

Mouse flipped a switch and opened up the two-way communications now. Gath offered no hesitation as he immediately took the initiative to get their message out into the comm. traffic.

"Crimson Squad requesting extraction," Gath reported calmly, "I repeat Crimson Squad requesting extraction."

Jas felt _Les'ika_ tense beneath his grasp, and he swallowed hard. Part of him was hoping that no one would answer, despite the other part of him that knew he had no choice but to return to the GAR.

"_Name and rank, soldier_," another voice, sounding very much like the clone who was making the report, scolded angrily in response. "_Tasteless jokes about the dead are not tolerated._"

Arlesse closed her eyes and clutched tightly to Jas' armor now. She felt her heart racing, as there was no denying that the imaginary chronometer had begun ticking faster. She listened to the rest of the conversation that took place between Crimson and the clone soldiers at her father's palace. She concentrated on their exchanges, needing to know how much longer she had with Jas before it would all truly be over.

"You still hold that grudge against Gan, don't you, Tarj? It's not our fault we were just a more personable squad than your do-good riff-raff," Gath replied, the sound of smug satisfaction in his voice as he recognized his estranged brother's voice anywhere. They had both trained under Gan, but Tarj and his men weren't training as commandos. Tarj was created and instructed to be a clone commander rather than be a part of any of the commando squads. He had the fortunate luck that his men were more inclined to obey their orders than Crimson had been. Because of that, Gan didn't spend nearly as much time with Tarj and his men as he had with Crimson, and friendly opposition had built up over the years as Tarj felt a bit slighted by his training sergeant. To make up for Gan's seeming lack of interest in him, Tarj often staged pranks and stupid little nuances for Crimson as a way to try and gain Gan's attention. Strangely, though, Crimson and Tarj found themselves more intertwined as brothers than any of them had planned. Crimson used Tarj's tactics as ways to expect the unexpected and hone their disobedience into inventiveness while Tarj learned to be the unexpected and it helped him to think beyond the traditional war games training that the Kaminoans had loaded into his flash-trained brain.

"_You're one sick, _shabuir," the voice belonging to Tarj responded, the anger not lessening. There was obvious bitterness in his words that another clone would dare to imitate some of his brothers who had perished nobly in their mission. "_You were warned to stop impersonating the dead…_"

"Find a superior officer and tell him that the dancing nerf pup took a nap," Gath interrupted, all serious now. "And, the nexu kitten came out of the cave."

There was the sound of a click, followed by a long pause. Collectively, the group held their breath not certain if the silence indicated that they had lost the connection prematurely or if Tarj had cut them off in his anger.

After a long few minutes, however, the communications clicked again, and Tarj's voice burst with emotion as though he was standing right along with them. "_Fierfek! You _di'kuts! _How the hell did you manage to resurrect?_"

"Even death rejected the Reject Squad," Dusty said somewhat cheerfully, smiling with satisfaction that apparently the rivalry between Tarj and Crimson had never subsided.

"_Well, that definitely sounds like you _diniis_. I see you're still proud of being the Kaminoan's finest rejects._"

"Just remember one-hundred percent, _ner vod_," Dusty bragged from his position by Zech, trying not to laugh when Tarj called them lunatics. "Last time I checked the status, you were only at ninety-six-point-eight."

"Look, we can debate statistics and tell stories over caf later," Gath cut in, still resenting the "reject" status and how their reputation continued to precede them with it. He thought for certain that after their time apart, even Tarj would have put the past into a different perspective. "Any chance you could get me an extraction for six wets?"

"_Six?_" Tarj asked, his voice conveying someone who was completely dumbfounded.

Gath's answer was quick. "Five friendlies and one for the interrogation team."

"_Well, now, haven't you been productive? I see you're still trying to overachieve your objectives. The question is are you smart enough to get location coordinates for my team?_" Tarj said, trying to gently rankle Gath.

"You want a challenge?" Gath responded, rising to Tarj's taunt. "Go ask the locals about the burned down equinine farm. Maybe you'll find someone who remembers where it's located."

"_Wait one_," Tarj said as silence came over the comm. for a couple moments.

Dusty could imagine Tarj scrambling to find a civilian in his close proximity who could tell him the information he needed in order to do the extraction. He was certain that they had to pull up either an electronic map or find an old flimsi one because there weren't many civilians who could rattle off positioning coordinates, let alone know what positioning coordinates even meant.

After a number of silent minutes had passed, Tarj finally returned and his voice carried an air of relief. "_See you in about forty-five minutes, Crimson._"

"Crimson, out," Gath finished as Mouse cut the transmission.

"Good old Tarj," Dusty laughed as he began packing up their supplies and making certain that Zech was going nowhere without their assistance. "Never thought we'd see him again after Kamino."

While the others continued chatting in good humor and reminiscing about their days in training, Arlesse looked to Jas and saw him staring at her. For a long moment, neither one could find any words.

"We knew this would happen," he finally said, wondering why his chest felt like it was being crushed under an enormous weight. He should be happy to see Tarj again, and even though he felt no resentment to his brother, he couldn't find anything about the upcoming reunion that made him want to leave this forest.

Arlesse swallowed down the sadness in her throat and curled tighter into Jas, her voice soft. "Please, just hold me until you no longer can."

**Tochin Moon III  
786 Days ABG**

Out in the distance, the high-pitched hum of a LAAT/i gradually increased in volume, turning the silence into nothing but a vehicle's engine. Jas recognized the whirring sound of the engine as it rose and fell in pitch while the pilot skimmed above the treetops, raising and lowering the LAAT/i to account for the varying height of the trees in the forest.

Arlesse couldn't help looking up into the dark sky, trying to seek out the source of the distant noise. She refused to uncurl her fingers from Jas' just yet, asking, "That's them, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied sadly. Normally, he would welcome the LAAT/i's engine, grateful to get away from whatever situation he was in and look forward to a rest at the end of the mission. However, this time the sound only served as a countdown to the conclusion of the past few days and an end to the moments that had given him an opportunity to share emotions that most of his clone brothers would never know.

The engine of the LAAT/i had grown increasingly loud now, and Jas was certain that the vehicle had found the open field where the equinine farm was once located. There was a change in pitch as the LAAT/i's repulsors kicked in, and Jas was certain that the pilot was assessing where it was safest to land amongst the debris that Mouse had caused earlier when he set off the thermal detonators on Gunna's ship.

Jas regretfully untangled _Les'ika's_ hand from his and watched her slip away from him as she stood against the tree that they had been hidden behind. She lowered her eyes and stared at the darkness of the ground, her eyes blinking hard against the emotions that wanted to spill through. Her fingers twisted nervously before her as though all her confidence had suddenly been erased.

"You'll be okay now," Jas told her as he lifted his helmet off the ground and held it before him.

Arlesse raised her eyes and found him watching her with concern etched on his face. She took a deep breath and spoke softly. "I don't normally get to say goodbye to anyone. Everyone just leaves."

Jas nodded in understanding. He didn't normally get to say goodbye either. He had lost brothers daily, even if they were estranged. Not even Gan offered a goodbye on the day they embarked from Kamino. Their training sergeant, their _ba'vodu_, had merely watched them load onto a transport ship from the distance with his head down as though grieving.

"Then, we should share this goodbye together," he told her quietly.

Arlesse swallowed hard, braving herself to use one of the words that Jas had taught her. "You and your…_vode_ need to stay safe. None of you are rejects, and you're always welcomed back here. I'll make sure my father knows that."

Jas heard the repulsors of the LAAT/i shut down, and he knew that if they didn't catch up with the others in the open field, Tarj would send out a search party for them. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, closing his eyes at the emotion that his small gesture contained. When he pulled back, he saw the sadness in her eyes, the same sadness that he felt in his own, and his voice was quiet, regretful. "Goodbye, _Les'ika_."

Arlesse watched as Jas put the helmet on his head. Her voice was a mere whisper, mourning for the man beneath that she would never see again. "Goodbye, Jas."

The sound of scuffling boots surrounded them suddenly, and Jas clenched his fist in silence as he realized that they had not moved quickly enough. Three troopers had found their way to the tree where he and _Les'ika_ had been delaying their departure.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" one of the troopers asked.

Arlesse took a couple seconds to respond, as she was still lost in her memories of Jas, staring at the gray-armored man before her. Finally breaking her eyes away, she looked to the white-armored soldiers and nodded her head absently.

Jas was aware of how _Les'ika's_ trust seemed to have waned. She knew that the clone troopers would not bring her harm, but to her they were faceless soldiers. She had no connection with them, nothing to give her a sense of humanity. Crimson had laid themselves before her as men and so did the trooper who had died for her protection. Jas felt like he was abandoning _Les'ika_, leaving her to strangers who knew nothing about her, other than what they had probably been fed in some last-minute flash-training session.

Deciding to ignore protocol and the rules for just a while longer, Jas quickly reached forward and grasped her hand. He could see that _Les'ika_ needed someone she could trust, someone who was familiar to her and could ease her back into her life at the palace. Jas knew that he couldn't stay with her for the full transition, but he could certainly stay by her side until she was back on the grounds of her home. Jas felt he had earned that right, that privilege, to be the one to bring her home because he had been with her since the start in Hazar's prison cell.

Aware that _Les'ika_ had suddenly relaxed as though someone had put a comforting blanket around her shoulders, Jas could feel her tension melt as her small fingers squeezed around his hand.

"I'll take her to the LAAT/i," Jas proposed, making sure his voice made no room for compromise.

"Understood," the trooper responded as he moved before them, illuminating the way with his spotlamps. The other two troopers fell in behind the commando and the princess, taking the rear guard.

As the group moved closer to the LAAT/i, four more troopers emerged from the vehicle. One of the troopers had markings in green along his arms and legs, signifying the rank of a clone commander. The green coloring on his helmet was designed to give the appearance of aggressive war paint. It made the T-visor of the helmet look like an angry, hellish alien and the markings on the sides gave the impression of jagged cuts along the being's cheeks. The back of the commander's armor was covered with a thick, leather swath that extended down from his belt to the back of his knees and was trimmed in green along the edges.

As Gath and the rest of Crimson had made their way towards the LAAT/i, Dusty continued to push Zech rudely, offering unconvincing apologizes whenever the baron tripped over something in the field. Mouse stayed close to Zech and kept lifting him by the scruff of his neck every time he lost his balance.

The clone in the green-striped armor lifted his hands to his helmet and removed it from his head. Again, his face looked the same as the men in Crimson, but his hair was much longer than Dusty's, the thick locks extending down past the nape of his neck and tied neatly in the back. He eyed the four commandos and the two civilians that accompanied them.

Gath likewise took off his helmet upon greeting the brother that was his faithful competition their entire lives. Gath allowed a smirk to cross his features. "Nice to see you, Tarj, and the skirt still suits you, especially now that you let your hair grow out."

"I've told you more than once it's a _kama_, you _di'kut_," Tarj snapped, trying to restrain from releasing his laugh of relief. "Also, I got tired of dealing with hair cuts. It's a lot easier to just tie it back, but then you always did like to do things the hard way. Speaking of which, I should have known that when they assigned me here, I'd be hauling your _shebs_ out of trouble."

"Tarj, you just can't stand the boring GAR without us," Mouse jibed flatly.

"Wow, someone taught you to speak more than two-word phrases," Tarj laughed as he slapped Mouse's shoulder with relief.

"I take that credit. I make him so annoyed that he just yells whole paragraphs at me now," Dusty smiled as he pushed Zech onto the ground in front of Tarj.

"So, this is the package for interrogation?" Tarj asked, scrutinizing over Zech like he was damaged merchandise at a bazaar.

"Yeah. Separatist _di'kut_," Dusty answered, "Found him plotting to take out the king. I think this ups our percentage another couple notches. Is it even possible to be over one-hundred percent?"

Jas came before Tarj now, his hand still holding onto _Les'ika's_. Normally, he would have joined in the verbal bantering with Tarj, as something they were always good for was a laugh with each other. He could see that their time apart in the war hadn't lessened the teasing or the joking, but Jas was far from a jovial mood right now. He knew he had to break himself away from _Les'ika_, but he just wasn't ready yet to release her hand, and as she clutched to his hand, he knew she continued to feel the same.

"Good to see you, Jas," Tarj smiled guardedly to him in greeting, sensing that Jas was not in quite the same wistful mood as his brothers. His eyes glanced quickly to the way Jas held onto the princess, but with Jas' _buy'ce_ in place, Tarj couldn't get a decent feel for his brother's true disposition.

Jas used his other hand to clasp Tarj's wrist in a typical Mandalorian greeting. "Glad you're still alive."

Tarj released Jas' arm and decided that he wouldn't dwell on his brother right now. Jas would eventually deal with his problems as he always had, and Tarj knew that he had to get back to the more pressing matters at hand anyway. He now bowed his head respectfully to the girl he recognized as the princess. Unlike the multitude of holo-images that the king had shown him during his time at the palace, Arlesse Psach no longer looked quite as refined as those holo-images had indicated. Everything that was enhanced and sophisticated about her in the king's holo collection didn't exist right now as the past few days of wilderness surviving with Crimson was evident in her appearance.

"Ma'am," Tarj said greeting her cautiously, aware of some sadness in her eyes that he hoped was due to missing her father. "We'll get you home quickly."

Arlesse instinctively squeezed Jas' hand tighter, her breath suddenly heavy. She couldn't help herself and turned her head to look at Jas, disappointed when his helmet remained on his head, covering his face.

Jas squeezed her hand in return, watching the entire scene around him through the HUD in his helmet. He saw the troopers hauling Zech onto the LAAT/i, while Crimson smiled happily in their reunion with Tarj. Jas was actually glad that he kept his _buy'ce_ in place because the last thing anyone needed to see was the pain in his eyes. He never imagined in a couple days that he would feel so strongly for anyone, and especially not develop a romantic attachment with a woman. He had already wondered how he was going to adjust his thoughts and emotions when he didn't have _Les'ika_ around anymore.

"Your father is awaiting your return," Tarj continued as he kept his interest on the princess, unable to understand why she seemed so disheartened and why her attention on Jas paled into some kind of deeper sadness.

Arlesse nodded in understanding and watched as Tarj slipped his green-marked helmet onto his head before he stepped inside the LAAT/i and reached a hand down to help her inside.

Jas stayed by _Les'ika's_ side and put a hand on her waist to help steady her as she stepped up into the small transport. He remained with her after they had gotten inside, keeping one hand connected to hers as she took hold of one of the overhead handles.

The rest of Crimson entered behind them, and Zech was pushed into a corner where he was secured to a railing that was designed to hold prisoners. Two of the clone troopers guarded Zech, their stances practically daring him to do something stupid.

Tarj looked down to the princess. "Lift-offs can be rough, Ma'am. Make sure you've got a good grip."

Arlesse tightened her fingers both on the handle and Jas' hand. As Tarj had predicted, the LAAT/i rose with a start and if it wasn't for Jas' grasp, she was certain that she would have lost her balance. Closing her eyes for a few minutes, Arlesse concentrated on nothing but the warm strength of Jas' gloved fingers and knew that she only had this miniscule touch left to share with him now, but she was going to spend the flight back home lost in her memories of the past few days. She would never forget Crimson, and she would especially not forget Jas.


	18. Chapter 17

_Author's Notes_: Apologizes for delaying this chapter after I had promised some of you that I had it written. I wanted to fill in some gaps that I felt were unfinished, and I believe the chapter now fully tells the part of the story it was intended to tell.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 17**

_The Force shows me that things brew beneath the surface, and I sense a churning of emotions, not unlike the undertow in an ocean. What I can sense in that undertow looks like braided ribbons, tightly woven and unbreakable. It's a rare bond, a beautiful knot of compassion and adoration, unique in that it is both innocent but deeply devoted._  
Jedi Paxa Tener providing her insights to King Vollan Psach

**Tochin Moon III**  
**786 Days ABG**

Dusty tucked his arms behind his head and reclined with satisfaction onto the abundant and soft mattress. The wooden frame that supported the mattress was carved and etched to look like leaves on a vine reaching up towards the ceiling. The deep, red wood had been carefully stained to hide the knots, and it had been polished so that it was smooth to the touch.

Dusty closed his eyes for a couple moments and let his body contour into the soft bedspread. He didn't care that it was a lightly colored blue, not unlike the early morning sky he had witnessed during their journeys in the Tochin forest. He was just content to feel pampered and spoiled, and he felt that Crimson deserved the right to enjoy the moment. Even though he had once before experienced a short time with civilian splendor, he was certain that this would probably be the one and only time the rest of his brothers would ever have this experience, and he hoped they would relish it as much as he intended to do.

In fact, Dusty had spent the last fifteen minutes gently ransacking the communal guest room they had been given to use for the night. He had no intentions to take anything or leave anything out of place, but it was just the curiosity of the child that lived within him to touch new things and see the kinds of luxury that he couldn't even dream about living within.

Smirking silently, Dusty wondered if anyone would ever realize that his fingerprints had invisibly marked the thick paint upon one of the canvasses in the room. After his inquisitiveness had taken over him earlier, Dusty couldn't help exploring the bumps and ridges of an artistic craft that he had never seen up close before. He thought it was amazing how the paint looked so realistic from a distance but when he was close to it, there were textures he would have never believed made up the painted yellow blooms that were trapped inside the wooden framework.

After exploring the artwork, Dusty had also scavenged through the suite, opening every drawer he could find on the expensive furniture. Everything was made of wood, each piece carved exquisitely with adornments of leaves and flowers that replicated the kinds of plants found in the forests of Tochin. For as much as Dusty was admiring the beauty of the furniture he ransacked, he had also wondered if he would come across any small trinkets that he could consider a souvenir for his time on Tochin and for the night he would spend in a royal palace.

Now, lying comfortably with his curiosity fulfilled and no souvenir to have been found, Dusty opened his eyes again, allowing them to trickle throughout the vast room, taking in everything from the pink and sweetly fragrant orchids that were meticulously placed in a crystalloid vase to the walls of the luxury suite, finding peace in his mind as he stared at some of the other pieces of artwork.

In addition to the painting of the yellow blossoms, there were also canvases with equinine animals in majestic poses. Their four legs, thick tail, and spiked horns gave the impression that these beasts were wild and aggressive rather than tame and domesticated. And, for the briefest of moments, Dusty found his thoughts trailing back to that night on Denon with Cerina Browlin. Even though she seemed very well off financially, the apartment where they had finally ended the night was humble and simple, a staged setting where she had hidden the data they needed. It was a complete contrast to the way she presented herself as a well-kept woman who enjoyed the personal luxuries that accented her beauty.

Absorbed in the disparity between Cerina's appearance and the plain apartment where they spent the better part of the evening, Dusty began to wonder if Cerina actually did live in a similar kind of extravagance like he saw in this palace or if everything about her had been completely scripted in order to fit a profile that had served as a cover to that mission.

Knowing he would never learn such an answer, Dusty decided it was best to push his ever-nagging thoughts about Cerina aside. Rather than live in a past that was long gone, Dusty turned his head to watch Gath's fingers continuously tick over the keys on a datapad.

"Don't forget to make me dashing and daring," Dusty smirked, pulling out of his reverie the best way he knew how – by bothering his brothers.

Gath merely looked up for a moment. "Do you have any idea just how hard it is to write a report so that it coincides with the debriefing we gave?"

Then, without waiting for a response to his rhetorical question, Gath resumed typing madly on the datapad, finishing up the report he was required to submit. It was nothing more than the usual political nonsense that accompanied a debriefing, but according to GAR regulations, squad leaders were required to submit tangible documentation at the end of a mission. Crimson may bend and break rules while on a mission, but Gath always made sure to clean up the report prior to sending it. It was their last chance to properly defend their actions in the event that someone wanted to audit their mission debriefing further. And, with this mission on Tochin, Gath had made certain that during their debriefing and in his report that they neglected the information about calling the princess _Les'ika_ as well as Jas' romantic interlude with her.

"Yeah, I noticed that humanity is disregarded with the GAR," Dusty mumbled.

"So are a lot of things," Mouse agreed as he continued tinkering with the set of comlinks that he had brought with him on the mission. Reworking technology and machinery was something Mouse did when he was bored or needed to relax. In this case, he continued working on the comlinks that he hadn't had a chance to finish refurbishing after they had departed from the transport that had dropped them onto Tochin's Moon II.

The equipment he was fixing was an outdated relic of a time long ago from the days of sending text messages as opposed to verbal communications. Mouse always had an interest in old technology, fascinated by the differences in modern conveniences versus what had come before. He knew that no one bothered with text-only communications anymore, not when there were countless encryptions that could protect verbal and imaged messages, but this was a project he had taken great pride in doing, and it was one of the most satisfying repairs he had done.

Setting one of the comlinks down on a small table, Mouse picked up the other one and sent a quick message between them, smiling with accomplishment that the link worked again. Opening up the outer shells on them once more, he tinkered with the frequency settings, finding one that was long outdated and was easily lost within the usual frequency traffic of the current times.

Jas was sitting on the bed he was given in Crimson's expansively communal room and stared with empty eyes at his _buy'ce_ as it sat on the thick bedcovers. He had already cleaned the Deeces and calibrated the scopes on the attachments. He had taken his kit and had reorganized what was left of it with the meticulous fashion of someone who had a compulsive disorder.

Each of his brothers had seen that Jas was trying to hide his pain, trying to get back into some sense of normalcy, but he was failing miserably at the current moment. Jas had even gone so far as to lay his armor out neatly around him, but he stopped from cleaning it every time he picked up the chest piece and the wrist gauntlets. He just wasn't ready yet to remove the marks on his armor, the places where _Les'ika_ had touched her fingers with concern and curiosity. It was in those moments alone with her that Jas had learned about compassion, and as he touched a bare finger over the marks on one of the wrist gauntlets, he felt his insides churning with grief. The last time he saw _Les'ika_ or touched her was on the LAAT/i. The moment the transport had landed in the palace hangar, the king had rushed in and enclosed his daughter in an embrace that was protective and deeply personal. Crimson didn't need to be told that they were to back away and give the reunited father and daughter their time alone.

By that point, Duchess Janelle had stepped in and led Crimson away so that they could settle in and prepare for the debriefing.

As Jas looked to his _buy'ce_ again, he grazed his finger across the section above the T-visor, the place where _Les'ika_ had kissed him prior to his brothers taking out Gunna and capturing Zech. Jas felt cheated suddenly about how abruptly everything had changed with him not seeing _Les'ika_ after they had arrived at the palace and he wondered if she felt the same about not seeing him. Everything had been so quick, and the debriefing they were required to attend was done during the evening mealtime. Even though Crimson and the others in the debriefing were given a full meal, it just seemed that time was spinning away from Jas faster than he had ever known it to go before.

Other than King Vollan, Duchess Janelle, and the Rodian Jedi negotiator Paxa Tener, only Tarj and Crimson were in attendance in that debriefing, and Crimson had found it unusual that _Les'ika_ was not partaking in the routine meeting.

When Jas had casually asked about _Les'ika's_ absence, the reply he received from the duchess was that the princess had been required to receive a medical and psychological evaluation, as was their standard procedure for any citizen of their world who had undergone a traumatic event of this scale.

From that point on, Jas had kept his head down and his thoughts silent. He only offered brief responses when required, but it was obvious to him that the king and the duchess had picked up on Jas' sudden change in demeanor. Even Jedi Paxa had begun studying Crimson differently, her concentration seeming to subtly and slowly narrow to Jas.

By the time they were released from the debriefing, it was late in the evening and their superiors had ordered them to rest for the night. Their transportation was scheduled to arrive the next day, and they were to leave promptly at noon for their next mission. Vollan had offered for Crimson to stay in the guest rooms rather than the common guards' quarters. He wanted to offer them his gratitude, especially since it was something he said his daughter insisted he do, and Jas was certain that it was at _Les'ika's_ request that Crimson had found themselves in this magnificent suite.

While Jas continued to look at his _buy'ce_, he thought about _Les'ika's_ father. He realized that the king was everything _Les'ika_ had described as far as being kind and compassionate, especially where she was concerned. In fact, at the end of the debriefing, Vollan had requested a few extra minutes of Crimson's time and dismissed the others. He thanked Crimson privately for the return of his daughter, clearly allowing his emotions to exhibit freely without inhibition. He showed them how he was a father in that private moment, a man who had believed that by losing his child, he had lost his entire life and there was nothing left for him.

Gath humbly explained that they were just following orders, doing the job that they had been assigned. However, from Vollan's perspective, Crimson was nothing short of the saviors who had suddenly emerged from the unknown with his child alive and safe, and he wanted to do everything in his power to see that she would never be harmed again. He even went so far as to ask if it would be possible for Crimson to stay on Tochin, taking on the roles of being his daughter's personal protectors.

Gath regretfully had declined the offer, and Vollan was reasonable enough to understand that special operations soldiers such as Crimson were needed elsewhere in the war. That was when Jas unthinkingly interceded and offered Tarj in their place, explaining that they had grown up together and that they trusted Tarj without question.

Vollan thought about it for a moment, seeming to be studying Jas very closely, taking in his mannerisms and his concern for making certain his daughter would be safe. Then, without any further hesitation, the king accepted Crimson's recommendation and told them that he would get the transfer request for Tarj handled immediately.

After that conversation was the point when Jas had really withdrawn into himself, and Crimson knew that they could say nothing to him until the next day when they were loaded on the transport and headed off of Tochin.

Suddenly the door to Crimson's chamber pinged for attention, and it broke Jas from his ruminations. Gath sighed at the additional distraction that hindered the end of his report. He glanced at the wall-mounted chronometer realizing that it was getting very late in the evening, and he couldn't even begin to imagine who might possibly be calling on them at this hour.

Jas lifted his head cautiously, wondering if perhaps _Les'ika_ had managed to free herself from wherever they had sheltered her away, and he had a wild moment of hope that she would be standing behind the entrance.

Dusty hurried to the door, flashing a mischievous grin at Jas. However, when he opened the door they saw a young man, probably no older than sixteen years old, standing there. He was dressed in the plain clothing of a personal messenger, his tunic and pants a dull yellow. His shin-high boots were worn and dull, their deep brown now faded to a dark tan. The boy's auburn hair was cut short, and his light brown eyes sparkled with curiosity and awe at the four identical men and their small armament that was neatly scattered around the suite.

"I think you have the wrong room," Dusty said as he crossed his arms over his chest, smiling with that jovial charm of his he liked to exhibit around civilians.

The young man pulled his thoughts back from wherever they had been and nervously scratched at the back of his head. "Um, I've been asked to summon the one of you called Jas."

Dusty turned to Jas and winked at him. "_Taylir Les'ika akay vaar'tur_."

Jas fought to keep his heart from rushing while he tried to contain his embarrassment in front of Dusty, especially since his brother had just told him to "hold _Les'ika_ until morning," and Jas knew exactly what Dusty meant by that.

Standing up, Jas put his _buy'ce_ onto the bed and looked at the messenger, pushing aside the less-than-noble thoughts about being brought to _Les'ika's_ bedchamber. "I'm Jas."

The boy took a quick look at Jas in his bodysuit. "She would consider it disrespectful if you came to see her looking like that."

Feeling a nervous swell in his chest that someone might have made arrangements for him to see _Les'ika_, Jas moved swiftly and set his armor back on. He glanced at the _buy'ce_, but decided to leave it on the bed, as the last thing he wanted to do was hide from her again. Turning to the messenger, Jas merely raised an eyebrow to silently question his appearance.

"That's good. Follow me," the boy said cheerfully as he turned and started down the hallway.

Jas followed the messenger, memorizing every turn they took down the long corridors. He let his eyes absorb the artwork and historic artifacts as they went, wondering briefly just how many paintings there were throughout the palace. He saw everything from ancient armor-clad heroes to flower arrangements. The pieces of ancient weaponry that also lined the hallways were antique swords and blades, looking like something out of a fantasy story from an era long past that Jas couldn't even imagine.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a small room, and the messenger left Jas, telling him that he was to wait there for her. Now, Jas paced nervously about this tiny chamber where the walls were covered with giant tapestries depicting scenes of battles and meadows full of flutter-winged insects on top of orchids. Jas had looked to each of the different tapestries, but none of them could hold his attention for long. He knew he shouldn't have accepted this invitation and that he belonged with his brothers. Still, his heart jumped at the thought that he would have one last chance to be with _Les'ika_, one last chance to hold her and prolong their goodbye for just a little longer.

A set of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the sound of them dropped Jas' stomach to the floor. He knew how the princess walked, and this was not the sound her feet made. What he heard was light and graceful, practiced with great care, and it was a completely different kind of movement from the princess' gait. _Les'ika_ had always walked as though trying to hide, and her steps were cautious sometimes overly careful.

"Thank you for coming," a female voice said.

Jas suddenly turned and felt his chest drop out from beneath him, his suspicions confirmed, as the voice certainly did not belong to _Les'ika_, but rather her cousin, Janelle Napith.

The sweet floral perfume that this woman wore struck Jas like some kind of blaster bolt. Its scent was intoxicating, flowery like the Cerulean Lily but vibrant like some kind of fresh fruit. Jas considered that her perfume may seem light upon her to the entourage that was accustomed to being in her presence, but the scent was overwhelming to him, blocking his other senses as it threatened to suffocate him in its richness.

He swallowed hard and brought his eyes to the young woman in the room. Her golden hair curled around her shoulders in loose, spiraled ringlets, and her light skin was soft, nearly fragile in its smoothness. Her green eyes held strength but could also hold the stare of anyone she wished. She exuded a certain kind of charisma, and she was a woman who knew how to capture her audience.

Jas glanced over her and saw that her body was shaped in the curves that men found appealing, as the green dress that covered her body accentuated those curves while drawing attention to the color of her eyes.

Jas pulled his eyes away and looked to anything else in the room that he could. This woman was far too mesmerizing, far too aware of her charismatic gifts. She had been trained well in her skills, and she would certainly make the formidable queen that _Les'ika_ wanted her to become in her place. Jas, however, could not ignore the sinking feeling he had that he was about to be interrogated by this woman rather than receive gratitude for saving her younger cousin.

Suddenly, the interrogation mantra that all clones were taught began to play in his mind. _Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147._

"I'm sorry to have misled you by being so vague," Janelle apologized. "I feared you would not have taken my invitation if you knew it came from me."

Jas heard the genuine emotion in her voice, and he should have realized by the ambiguity of the message he was given that it would never have come from the princess. _Les'ika_ was far too honest, unable to be so devious, simply because she knew no other way. Feeling betrayed and resentful that he had been deceived about seeing _Les'ika_, Jas asked as casually as he could, "Why have you requested me?"

"I wanted to thank you for risking your lives to bring my cousin back home safely, but more importantly, I wanted your personal debriefing," she admitted. "I was there for the official report. Now, I want the unofficial one."

Jas brought his eyes to hers, refusing to fall into the alluring trap he saw in them. _Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147._ "What do you classify as unofficial?"

"Arlesse has grown fond of you…"

Jas felt his eyes widen slightly and forced himself to push it away. _Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147._

The duchess suddenly reworded her statement, feigning that she had made a careless mistake with her words. Jas, however, noted differently that she had been very particular and had chosen her verbal slip on purpose. "…Fond of clones, men in the army much like yourself. She has expressed a want to do something in gratitude for the men who have been assigned here on Tochin."

Jas swallowed shallowly, doing all he could to continue hiding exactly what happened in that forest. "Apparently, we made an impression on her."

"Of that I am certain," the duchess acknowledged. "Arlesse is also saddened by your sudden deployment. She didn't think your type of unit would have returned to war quite so quickly."

"That is the nature of war, Ma'am," he told her. "Orders come without warning."

"That is true," she nodded. Stepping towards one of the tapestries and touching an elegant hand upon a tassel to untangle it, she asked, "Will you be saying goodbye to her? It seems you owe her that much."

_Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147._ "I'm afraid I don't follow your meaning."

"You're rather protective of her," the duchess said turning back to Jas now, her eyes seeming to hold him in place. "You are concerned for her safety and her well-being."

Jas glanced at the scene on the tapestry of the wild equinine mammal that was on its hind legs seeming to be defiant of the storm clouds rolling in from the distance. He decided to try turning the conversation away from himself while he could. "Tarj is a good man. He'll do his job to keep her safe."

Janelle laughed lightly, refusing to play into Jas' attempt to distract her questions. "I mean you and your fellow squad mates in Crimson. You have taken care of her for the past few days, and I believe that you all still feel an obligation to her."

"We were following orders," Jas said shortly as he turned his head slightly to the duchess. "We were required to bring her home safely."

"But, you were prepared to die for her, weren't you?"

_Jas, Commando, Crimson Squad, number RC-1147._ "She was our mission objective, and we were to protect her at all costs."

"That's the official answer," the duchess said softly. "Your eyes tell another one."

Jas swallowed hard, wondering how the duchess could possibly see past his interrogation face. He couldn't understand how she could ever see the churning of emotions that took place beneath his hardened façade.

Janelle now brought her eyes to Jas, and the green of them seemed to pierce into him, holding him in place like some kind of restraint. "Arlesse's father sheltered her and protected her because he was afraid that she would leave him, just like her mother did. In his doing so, he made his daughter nearly useless as a leader, and she is now entirely dependent upon others to survive the realities of the world. This palace is all she's ever known her entire life, and clearly there was something special about your squad that enabled her to survive such an ordeal as the one she underwent in the last few days. So either you see her as a helpless child who needs your protection or you see her more clearly than any of us."

Jas forced himself not to clench his fists as he replied, and tried to keep himself exhibiting a loose posture. He had to make his words careful because this cousin of _Les'ika's_ seemed to know far too much already. "We rescued a frightened woman who was emotionally tortured by being forced to watch a cloned man die brutally. She depended on us to be her stability and her strength, and in the days after her ordeal, she was the one who surprised us with her compassion and her generosity. So, if you wish to accuse me of seeing her more clearly than any of you, then it is true. The princess is much more than the child she is perceived to be by those closest to her."

Duchess Janelle did not relent her stare, but her voice was no longer in the stiffness of an interrogator. Instead, it was full of pity and sympathy. "Arlesse was not given much of a chance to live in reality, and she still believes in wishes and dreams. Her future requires someone in it who will teach her everything that has been denied to her, yet she needs someone to protect her at the same time. I'm afraid such a companion is difficult to find, and there is little interest from her own peers because of those limitations."

Jas felt his chest tighten, thinking back to how _Les'ika_ had been nearly destroyed by just words, the convincing sounding twist of truth that Zech had planted in her mind and how it caused her to doubt everything she had ever known her entire life. Jas knew that if Zech's treatment of her was any indication as to how these supposed nobles talked to her behind these palace walls, then he had done right to suggest Tarj as her ally.

Lowering his eyes to the floor, Jas had the sudden image in his mind of _Les'ika_ searching for happiness and kindness, seeking a man who would keep her safe while never undermining her. Looking up again, Jas watched in his memory _Les'ika's_ hand upon his armor and how it began the tumble of his emotions that he never knew could exist. He thought about how days later he had taken her hands and gently forced her to fire his blaster, the lesson in defense something he was certain she would never have behind the walls of the palace.

Jas had been aware of how his emotions for _Les'ika_ seemed to only strengthen in their short time together, and he knew she felt equally for him. Even though Jas had seen how _Les'ika_ would receive her father's constant compassion, the thought of leaving her caused him pain in a way he didn't believe was possible, and it gave him the sensation of having a hole in his chest, an emptiness that would forever be there once he departs from Tochin soil.

"I don't understand why you are telling me this," Jas finally said, doing his best to keep concealed the emotions that wanted to rip free from his mental box, the emotions that tried more than once to get him to explore the palace and find _Les'ika_.

"Remove from the equation her status as royalty and your accelerated aging," Duchess Janelle challenged. "And tell me honestly how you truly feel about her."

Jas closed his eyes and took a silent breath. If there was any way in the entire _shabla_ universe, he would never leave _Les'ika_. Opening his eyes, he told the duchess, "I believe you see more clearly than you admit, and I will neither confirm nor deny what you believe to know."

"I perceived as much," she responded gently, smiling warmly for him. "Arlesse's father and I have seen that she has returned changed, but she remains as silent as you regarding the particulars of her ordeal. In my experiences, silence is often louder than words, and my task here was to gain better knowledge as to who you really are. I am relieved to know that honest men still exist in the galaxy, and I truly am sorry to have deceived you. It was a necessary evil for the undertaking I was requested to fulfill."

Moving towards the hallway now, Janelle turned back for a brief moment. "Rian, the messenger boy who brought you here, will escort you back to your squad now."

Jas opened his mouth to inquire further about the duchess' quest for information from him but stopped short as he wondered just how he was going to ask such a question without incriminating either himself or _Les'ika_, and by the time he had come to any kind of coherent thought, the duchess was long gone.

Rian smiled cheerfully as he returned, the youthful awe still glazed in his eyes as he looked over the gray-colored armor. As he led Jas out of the room, he boasted proudly, "I'm going to join the Tochin guards when I turn eighteen."

Jas put a hand on the boy's shoulder and stopped him. "The glory is never worth the sacrifice."

Then, moving ahead of the confused messenger, Jas worked his way down the hallways and back to his brothers.


	19. Chapter 18

_Author's Notes_: This chapter is actually another of my favorites, and it took longer than I expected to polish it up just right. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed the characters telling it to me.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 18**

_I could not manage to break through Commando Jas' barriers of silence, but his sentiments for Arlesse are noble. There is something very real and honest in his eyes, and I believe the observations from Jedi Paxa do not require further challenging. However, due to orders that come from an authority higher than our monarchy, he cannot stay long enough to have his intentions proven. Their distance would either make them stronger or tear them apart forever, and I think we should find a way – utilizing our laws – to let them attempt the bond that they wish to know. I believe such an experience will authenticate their intentions and show us just how serious they truly are._  
Duchess Janelle Napith's report to King Vollan Psach after her interrogation of Jas

**Tochin Moon II  
****787 Days ABG**

Sleep had been eluding Jas for the last couple hours, and rather than fight the inevitable, he had decided to just get himself out of bed before his brothers awakened. Besides, he wasn't exactly accustomed to sleeping on a mattress quite as soft as the one he had been provided, and something about that bothered him. He wasn't certain if it was guilt for the brothers of his who would never experience such luxury or if it was because Jas knew he couldn't enjoy these comforts without knowing if _Les'ika_ was okay now.

As Jas continued to keep himself moving so as not to dwell on _Les'ika_, he thought back about how Crimson had asked no questions when he returned to the room last night, as his seclusion alone had told them all they needed to know.

Taking advantage now of the silence without his brothers awake to get in his way, Jas took one last inventory of his kit, confirming that it was finalized for departure because he knew that once he was given the new mission briefing, the supplies would be completely changed based on the requirements of their next assignment.

Jas took a quiet sigh, and the lavishly scented soap that lingered on his skin seeped into his nostrils. Because he had no idea when their next break between missions would be, Jas had also taken his time earlier this morning to clean up properly in the refresher before dressing himself in his full armor. He wasn't used to the aroma of the cologne-like cleanser and aftershave that they were provided, and it made him feel somehow different. Again, he wondered if it was another little luxury that _Les'ika_ insisted they be given, something to give them a memory of life in the civilian ranks, or if this was just the standard treatment that any guest who was invited into the palace received.

Trying again to not linger his thoughts on the princess, Jas knew that he and his brothers still had a couple hours yet before they were scheduled to leave Tochin, and he wanted to take that time to track down Tarj. He needed the closure of explaining to him why Crimson recommended that he stay on Tochin so that he could try to ease any animosity that he was certain Tarj would feel for them.

Leaving the opulent room behind and moving silently through the decorated palace, Jas began his search in the obvious places first, such as the quarters Tarj's squad had been assigned. When Jas had learned that Tarj had also started his day early, Jas knew that he had his work set out for him in _Les'ika's_ magnificent home, but he also knew what kind of man Tarj was and in which kinds of places he would allow himself to be found.

It took a while to track down his brother, but eventually Jas located him on one of the observation balconies. The wide doors had been opened, allowing the cool morning air to enter the palace, and Tarj stood before the railing on the center of the elevated stone terrace, looking out over the expansive courtyard below. With the exception of his _buy'ce_, Tarj was in his full armor, holding a posture that had his arms crossed over his chest. With his back to Jas, Tarj gave the appearance of taking in the sun-risen morning like some kind of warlord, inventorying the land that beckoned before him.

Jas put a hand briefly on his own _buy'ce_ that he had kept attached to his hip, wondering if he should do this conversation privately with his estranged brother so that no one would eavesdrop on them. After a long moment, however, Jas decided that he needed to look Tarj in the eye and really let him see why his recommendation for Tarj to stay on Tochin was so important.

"_Su cuy'gar, ner vod_," Jas said greeting him as he stepped onto the white and gray swirled balcony.

Tarj turned and looked to Jas. "I thought you'd be resting up a little longer before your departure this afternoon."

Jas shrugged his shoulders. "I've got some stuff on my mind."

"I think we all do," Tarj responded as he now leaned his back against the smooth stone railing of the balcony. "You know I won't like being pinned down here on some secluded mining world. I really would rather be bare-knuckling Gath's face right now."

Jas scratched the back of his head and instantly felt the need to defend his brother. His voice conveyed slight resentment that Tarj would dare try to attack Gath. "Don't blame Gath. It's not his fault."

"I saw his assigned number on the recommendation for me and my squad to stay behind."

"That's because it was my recommendation, and Gath agreed to it, taking the heat he knew you would give me," Jas admitted, willing to take Tarj's striking blow if his brother decided he needed to let off that kind of fury.

"You did what?" Tarj asked angrily. "You've known me since we were released from those cloning containers. I hate security detail, especially somewhere so remote like this place."

"Tarj, I need you here. You're the only one I know I can trust," Jas sighed, his voice conveying confidence for his distant brother's abilities.

"You're making no sense, _ner vod_," the green-armored man said angrily. "Get your head straightened or I'll recommend some rest for you in one of those _special_ facilities none of us like to talk about."

"It's…the princess," Jas answered, biting down on the instinctive reaction to say her modified name as he had for the last few days. "I know you can keep her safe."

Tarj raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he saw the genuine concern on Jas' face, and he remembered how Princess Arlesse had refused to let go of Jas' hand during the LAAT/i ride back to the palace. Tarj could see that Jas was opening his emotions so that he would understand. Feeling his own defenses crumble, Tarj rubbed his face with his hands. "Oh fierfek, Jas. Just what the hell did you do?"

"Nothing," Jas admitted and then he turned his head slightly away. "Nothing to cause her harm and yet everything that I know I shouldn't have."

"Damn it, Jas!" Tarj yelled, clenching his fists. "Straight answers. Haven't you learned that about me in ten years? I hate riddles."

Slowly, Jas turned his head back to Tarj and his words came out with a conviction he didn't quite comprehend but knew he felt. "Promise me – no – swear it to me that you'll keep her safe."

Tarj sighed with apology, able to clearly see the anguish that was behind his brother's eyes. "_Ner vod_, if you want me to help you, I need to know what in the _shabla_ blazes of hell you're talking about."

Jas decided there was no holding back. If he wanted Tarj to do the job properly, he had to level with him. "I…grew attached to her. I learned to care about her, and she feels equally for me, but we both know that can't be together. Fierfek, I haven't seen her since yesterday evening when we got off that LAAT/i, and I know I shouldn't have brought you into this, but I needed to be sure that she will be safe now that I can't protect her anymore."

Tarj turned and grasped the railing with his hands. He was frustrated and angry for Crimson sticking their noses into his business without his consent. All he ever wanted was for someone to just _ask_ him once – just once – if he would do something rather than constantly order his _shebs_ around like he was some kriffing droid.

Jas daringly took a step forward, expecting a fist to come flying at him. "I trust you, Tarj. I know you won't let anything happen to her. You'll see she's caring and wants what's in our best interest. She'll treat you and your men well."

"Fierfek, Jas," Tarj breathed, trying to keep calm as he turned around now. "I thought that if anyone would understand, it would be you and Crimson. Couldn't any of you at least have had the nerve to consult with me before making decisions where my life is concerned? I know we never verbalized it formally, but wasn't this why we were constantly at each other back on Kamino? We all knew we were special, able to exercise a stronger free will than our trooper brothers, and it's one of the reasons why we tested each other so aggressively. Did you forget all that?"

"No, I didn't forget," Jas admitted sadly as he lowered his gaze in regret. "I panicked in that moment. The king offered us – Crimson – the opportunity to stay here, but Gath said we couldn't, and I knew he was right. Even you know that commando squads are too highly specialized, but I couldn't leave _Les_…the princess to just anyone's protection."

Tarj rubbed his forehead with the palms of his hands, aware of how Jas stopped himself from calling Princess Arlesse something other than a formal title, but his brother cut the name off before Tarj could fully hear it. "Of all the women in the entirely galaxy, you had to get attached to a princess, you _dikut_. Are we even allowed to feel emotions like that?"

Jas thought of Dusty and was certain that there weren't too many other clones in the galaxy who had grown attachments to women. "You can if you're in the Reject Squad apparently."

Tarj blew out a frustrated breath of air and crossed his arms over his chest again. "Why do you care what happens to her now if you can't even be with her?"

"Because I'm no longer fighting for the Republic," Jas responded softly and without hesitation, keeping his traitorous thoughts contained between the two of them. He understood so very clearly now Dusty's motives after Denon and he empathized with him more than his brother will ever know. "I'm fighting for her – for the princess – and as long as I know she's safe then I can do my job in this war without worrying about her."

Tarj shook his head, not certain if he felt his brother was insane or needed to be admired. "You're talking like a traitor."

Jas swallowed hard. "No, _ner vod_, I'm talking like a man, something no one ever wanted us to be."

Tarj turned his head slightly towards the courtyard, seeming to be absorbing Jas' words. "We weren't supposed to know any of this, were we? We were just supposed to be the heroic flesh droids that fought a war and died for everyone who was afraid to take up arms themselves."

"That was their plan, whoever 'they' are supposed to be," Jas agreed, "But some of us found more in the galaxy than just following orders."

"Reject Squad always did have a flair for doing the impossible," Tarj answered turning back to his brother, neither committing to nor refusing Jas' request.

Stepping closer now, Jas grabbed Tarj's forearm in his hand as though greeting him. However, Jas' voice was low, thick with emotion to convey that he would not accept anything but a yes to his request. "Please, swear to me that you'll protect her."

Tarj breathed a deep sigh and truly saw that Jas had emotions for this princess that ran so much deeper than the surface. Somehow, she had imbedded herself into Jas' very inner being, the place Tarj had heard some cultures refer to as a soul. He saw that Jas would do anything for her, and somehow she had redirected his devotion from the Republic they were ordered to protect so that his devotion was solely for her. Tarj regretted even more that he wasn't ever meant to be part of a commando squad because he would have traded places with Jas in that moment and allowed his brother to stay with the girl he had the good fortune of experiencing a romantic attachment with, even if it had only been temporary and for a couple days.

"I swear to you, _ner vod_, that I will lay my life on the line to keep her safe," Tarj whispered. "Fight this war with trust that no harm will come to her."

Jas took a relieved breath and released Tarj's arm. "Be safe, _ner vod_."

"It's security," Tarj laughed, trying to lighten the moment and reassure his brother. "It's boring, tedious security."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Jas replied before leaving Tarj on the balcony and returning to the room where he had earlier left his sleeping brothers.

**Tochin Moon II  
****787 Days ABG**

Arlesse took residence in her favorite hiding place. There was a small bench that leaned against the trunk of a large weeping orchid tree. When the tree was in bloom, she could hide beneath the long, thin branches as they scrapped along the ground, reminding her of a yellow curtain. The orchids that were still closed in their early spring buds were braided throughout the yellow leaves but would emit a sweet aroma once they opened. Studying the unopened lavender blooms for a moment, Arlesse decided that they looked more like small speckles hastily dripped over a yellow canvas than actual flowers.

Leaning against the back of the bench now, Arlesse felt her eyes drift from the impending blossoms and looked to her empty hands, not concerned with the lack of a flimsi-plast novel in them this time. This time, she just wanted to be alone to deal with her emotional wounds. It wasn't the first time she felt them, but this time they hurt the most, and she knew that if she stayed in the palace, she would be too tempted to find Jas and try to convince him to make those aches stop.

Arlesse closed her eyes, taking in the faint scent of the early spring blossoms on the shrubs around her and mentally listened to Jas' voice still talking in her mind. Even as an imagined sound, his accent still shot through her chest and found her heart. Letting her imagination wander in the memories of the past couple days, she continued to feel the residual touch of his strong hands as they held her, and despite her tiny size she seemed to fit with him. She could still feel the touch of his lips as they lingered on hers, the prickly warmth of his unshaven skin and the gentleness of his strength never overpowering but tender and careful.

She fought against the sting her in eyes and the pain in her chest that threatened to drag her once again into the abyss of loneliness that she had known for her entire life. The more she thought about any of the men in court that she had once wanted to pursue, the more she found her thoughts returning to Jas.

Keeping her eyes closed for just a little longer, Arlesse could still picture his dark irises and how they gently looked upon her. Those brown orbs could see right into her emotional essence, and she had gladly laid her inner-self bare for him to know. He was the only man who ever learned the truth about her mother, and as Arlesse opened her eyes she realized that her fingers were upon the locket that forever hung around her neck.

Familiar sounding footsteps caught Arlesse's attention, and for the briefest of moments she had thought that Jas had come to find her. Bringing her eyes up and trying to peer between the thin branches, Arlesse tried to find that recognizable silhouette of gray armor amidst the flowery shrubs. However, the man that emerged through the tree's curtain wasn't the Republic soldier she had foolishly hoped had returned to her. Her eyes skimmed over the identifiable form of the average-sized man who wore a dark blue outfit and the sash that identified him as the king of Tochin. As Vollan Psach stepped closer to his daughter, Arlesse noticed the gentle concern in his blue-gray eyes and how his light brown hair had seemed to have turned even more gray after her rescue from Hazar. Although he was far from old at a mere forty-seven standard years, he walked with a weight on his shoulders that melted away the moment his blue eyes caught Arlesse's. His face brightened, and he smiled as he moved closer to his daughter, taking a seat on the hidden bench that she liked to spend her time upon.

Arlesse was not blind to how Vollan was always the caring father to her, concerned with her happiness and her comfort more than his own. Continuing with his smile of relief, Vollan reached a hand out to Arlesse's and took it offering reassurance and kindness.

His voice was apprehensive and the frightening emotions her abduction had given him were no longer hidden. It was the way he always was when alone with her. He became a different man, leaving his title and his court manners behind him. Now, he was just a father, a man who was devoted to his daughter, his family. "I had been worried that I would never see you again. I was in agony, trying not to give up hope, but after so many days of your continued absence, I knew the odds of you being safe were falling with every moment."

Arlesse swallowed down the hard lump in her throat. It was selfish of her to want to stay with Jas and Crimson, especially when she had a loving father who would have found a way to comb the entire galaxy for her. The man who raised her had done everything in his power to give her happiness and attention, and it would be so wrong of her to thank him for all that by disappearing with a squad of aging soldiers.

Forcing a heavy breath into her lungs, Arlesse sighed sadly. She wondered if she should tell her father about her romantic interlude, her fantasy for a cloned man who was bred for war and cursed to die far too soon.

Vollan saw that his daughter was struggling with emotions that ran deep. Her breathing was irregular, fighting the tears that he could see sitting in the brim of her eyes. Touching her hair, he brushed it back over her shoulder wondering how he would be able heal such pain in her.

"I need to know honestly if that bastard who stole you hurt you," he said softly. "Written reports can only tell so much."

Arlesse brought her eyes to her father, not used to hearing him speak with such language, as it was entirely uncharacteristic for him. Thinking of her time with Hazar, she remembered the droid, TaK, who had shocked her with one of its mechanical devices, causing the intense pain to awaken her. Then, she thought about the nameless clone trooper who died protecting her, a man who was tortured for no other reason than because Hazar perceived him as a replaceable flesh droid that he could take apart.

"Hazar's droid hurt me one time, stinging me out of my unconsciousness," she admitted. "But, Hazar wasn't interested in me. The Separatists were paying him a bribe to stay distant, and part of that bribe was a clone soldier who Hazar forced me to watch be tortured to death."

Vollan felt his stomach drop in regret, the safe world around his daughter destroyed by some sick mercenary. He pulled Arlesse against him and kissed the top of her head softly. "I'm so sorry, Lessa. I should have done something more to protect you."

"Papa," Arlesse said, gently pulling out of his embrace. She lifted her eyes towards his. "Don't you understand? I'm overprotected, and that's the problem."

"So, after a week with a commando squad you want combat lessons?" he asked lightly.

Arlesse lowered her eyes and couldn't control the blush on her face as she remembered how she conformed into Jas' arms when he helped her fire a blaster for the first time. Then, that same day, he merely handed her his blaster to protect herself while he and his brothers set off to stop the people who wanted to harm her father.

Arlesse forced another breath into her lungs as she realized that moment in the woods was so much more than actually holding a weapon. It was the way Jas trusted her, the way he gave up control of being her protector to give her the opportunity to know what it was like to take care of herself. It was a sensation that she had never known living behind the walls of the palace, and she was certain now that once Jas was gone, she would never know that feeling again.

Vollan caught the deep emotion pass over her eyes once more as he saw how she stared at nothing for a brief few seconds, a sign that a memory had flashed before her. "You barely ate anything at breakfast this morning, and you've been sulking as though you lost everything. Please, Arlesse, what troubles you so greatly?"

The princess stared at her hands as they stayed in her lap, the fantasy around her dissolving with every moment it got closer to midday and Crimson's departure. "I see how they all look at Janelle. No one here ever looks at me like they do her, and no one ever will."

"Arlesse, you shouldn't keep weighing yourself against your cousin," Vollan reasoned, knowing that there was something bothering her that was more than just her usual comparison to Janelle. "Don't underestimate your intelligence and your skills. You know that her position requires her to play the role of a doll for the men of court, and while doing so she needs to have an underhanded understanding of politics and law. I spared you that life, to let you become your own person who knows compassion and love, not tricks and exploitation."

Arlesse raised her eyes once more to her father as he continued, "I'm sorry that my doing so seems to have doomed you to a life of loneliness, but I just couldn't bear to destroy the safe and happy world I created for you. I feared that teaching you deception and manipulation would only turn you into another of these thoughtless nobles I have to deal with."

Touching her face gently, Vollan finished, "You're my daughter first, and I love you more than anything. If there is any way to give you happiness again, just ask it, and you know that I will do what I can to make it be so."

Swallowing down the lump again in her throat, Arlesse knew her father's words were honest and true. He had a knack for twisting what needed to be done in royal court, but with her he always was straightforward and sincere.

She prepared to have her words come out as a guilty admittance, expecting the disappointment she knew her father would feel when she explains how her emotions had developed for a cloned man who was cursed into a short life of war.

"You're in love with him," Vollan answered for her, aware of his daughter's confusion about how to explain emotions that he could see she didn't fully understand, but completely felt and experienced.

Arlesse sucked in a breath, her expression the shock of one who had been caught with her hand in the proverbial candied fruit jar. Then, she wondered if her father knew which of the men in Crimson she actually had grown a fondness for.

"He's protective of you," Vollan continued, "I'm not blind to see how his eyes held you in high regard at just the mention of your name. He's willing to die for you, even if he doesn't entirely comprehend that kind of raw emotion."

Arlesse shook her head, fighting the pain in her heart that Jas' departure continued to give her. "How…?"

Vollan took one of her long curls in his hand. He sectioned off a thin, six-inch section near the bottom and tied it off with a piece of cord from one of his pockets. While a smile of genuine humor flashed over his face, he began twisting the strands into a braid. "Do you think one who has been in love wouldn't see it? I loved your mother, truly and honestly. I would have done anything for her, and I have. All she wanted…all she _needed_ was to be free. She didn't belong here, and we both knew that."

Arlesse watched her father's fingers tightly weave her hair, his movements careful and slow as though trying to draw out the moment.

"What happened with Mama?" she asked softly. She hoped that everything Zech told her was a lie and that her mother didn't run away just to be with some pilot. She couldn't understand how any woman wouldn't love her father. He was kind and gentle, especially with those he cared for most.

Vollan's smile faded now and his eyes clouded with the past as though living a memory again. "She told you in her letter. She needed to be free."

Arlesse pushed aside the ache in her heart that Zech had put there, the seed of doubt he sowed for her parents' relationship. "Baron Erle told me that Mama left because she loved another man."

"I see," Vollan said and nodded absently. Then, he looked to Arlesse, allowing his eyes to be open and clear so she could see the truth in them. "Months before your mother and I were arranged to be married, a Jedi named Djinn Altis visited our world unexpectedly when his ship needed repairs. He had been on a solo mission but would not get into the details of that mission. In fact, he never even dressed as a Jedi, and we figured he was doing some kind of reconnaissance that required him to be covert in his operation. However, after meeting your mother, Djinn believed that his ship's breakdown was not accidental but a sign from the Force. Darian had told me how Djinn instantly saw something in her the moment they met, something that defined her differently. He had explained to her that according to the traditional teachings of the Jedi Council, she was too old for training in the Jedi temple, but he said he was part of another sect that doesn't adhere to the strict rules and regulations of the masters on Coruscant."

Smiling sadly again, Vollan saw the sparks of Darian in his daughter. The woman he continued to love was present in the angle of Arlesse's cheeks and the tight curls of her hair. "Your mother was destined for more than being a simple queen on some antiquated mining colony. She had a gift for calming others when they were upset or angry, and she had a natural ability to draw others to her. Djinn told her that if she ever wanted to pursue a life helping others in the galaxy and learn how to harness her abilities to their full capacity, he would return for her whenever she was ready and teach her the skills of a Jedi."

"Mama's a Jedi?" Arlesse asked, suddenly breathless.

"Not in the traditional sense," Vollan replied. "Maybe by now she had learned how to wield a lightsaber, but when she left she had planned to be a negotiator, someone who would bring reason and sanity to torn worlds."

Arlesse looked to her hands for a moment and understood now why Zech had thought her mother was having an affair. Arlesse remembered a story she read one time describing how Jedi training was both exhilarating and tiring, especially to someone that was just beginning such training. However, Arlesse quickly pushed her thoughts aside as her father tugged on her hair as he continued working on the braid.

"Before you ask, no, you do not have any Force adeptness," Vollan explained with a gentle laugh. "Djinn tested you when he came back to get your mother and there was nothing extraordinary about the way the Force interacted with you. Somehow your mother was meant for more than any of us ever dreamed. Darian and I had chosen for you to stay here with me where she wanted you to have a quiet existence. We had both agreed that it was safest not to boast about her talents and her want to enhance them as we feared it would bring unwanted attention to you."

"Zech lied," Arlesse said softly, feeling anger and resentment for the baron because of the way he tried to manipulate her. "Jas told me not to believe him."

"Erle probably didn't lie, Arlesse," Vollan explained. "Whatever he observed of your mother's interactions with Djinn led him to believe your mother was unfaithful to me."

Arlesse looked away briefly, the overload of secrets hidden from her so overwhelming and yet, strangely fascinating.

Vollan smiled again, having caught the brief spark that shone in his daughter's eyes when she mentioned her soldier's name. He decided it was time to change the subject and get onto matters he could control rather than pine for the wife he had let free. "Janelle had spoken at length with Jas last night, and he never admitted anything, keeping his silence solely to protect you. He wants what's in your best interest, and Janelle said that she could see it so clearly in his eyes that when they talked about you, it was unmistakable that he loves you. He may not understand it yet, but he does. And, now those same emotions are echoing in your eyes."

Arlesse felt the shock register on her face of something she thought for certain would remain her secret. She never imagined that anyone would notice the infatuation and attraction she had developed for a soldier, a cloned man who had no rights and wasn't even a citizen of the Republic for which he fought.

"But, we can't be together," Arlesse sighed, her sadness making her voice broken and soft. "I didn't mean to feel this, but it just…happened."

Vollan held the thin, six-inch long braid in his hand and tied off the bottom tightly. With his other hand, he pulled out his knife and cut the braided lock of hair off of his daughter's head. Handing it to her, he put the knife away and smiled warmly.

"I spent the better part of last night and this morning reviewing old laws and researching loopholes in our society's limitations. Because Jas was not born into a similar status as you, you must see to it that he vows his loyalty to you as a royal knight. It's an old law, put into place at the early era of our civilization, but it had never been removed from the doctrine so it is still valid. This law is the only way I can save you from living a life that will never bring you any happiness. Your companion wasn't meant to come from Tochin royalty, and I wouldn't want you to become the object of someone's resentment just because they feel obligated to be with you. I let your mother go because it was the right thing to do, and I always knew you wouldn't follow in the traditional duties of your station either."

Arlesse brought her eyes to her father, her chest filling with warmth as she took her braided hair into her fingers and realized that he had just given his blessing for her to be with Jas.

Brushing some of the curls back over Arlesse's shoulder, Vollan smiled again. "Noon is fast approaching, and he'll be gone before too much longer."


	20. Chapter 19

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again for everyone who continues to be interested! I thought I was going to have wonderful news to share with all of you, but my little hope of over two years ended in a miscarriage. I think this chapter is good timing despite that tragedy as this part of the story is something positive I need to enjoy right now.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 19**

_Any member of the royal family that is within consensual age to wed is forbidden to marry a consort born out of the ranks of royalty. There may be only one exception to this law and that is in the rank of a knight. The loyal protector is required to take the sacred vow of duty and honor and must have a definitive understanding of the proceedings during royal court. Before the marriage can be finalized, however, the knight must forfeit active duty in the military establishment in lieu of personal duty to the royal family.  
_Early Tochin law pertaining to a royal marriage, adopted towards the end of the Ancient Era

**Tochin Moon II  
****787 Days ABG**

Crimson moved about the hallways towards the hangar in unusual silence. Normally, Dusty would have made a dozen comments and Mouse would have threatened him with bodily harm by this point. Jas would have laughed and smiled the entire way, adding his remarks to both parties, just to keep from taking sides, and Gath would have had to intercede to keep them from actually doing something stupid.

Jas' silence, however, had bled into the rest of Crimson, and they all realized that he was reshuffling his emotions and mentally restacking his deck of priorities. They each knew that by the time they would be on their way to the next mission, Jas would have pushed Tochin and _Les'ika_ behind him. The longer they lingered on this world, the harder it was for Jas to let go of his emotions for the princess, and now that the time had come for them to begin their deployment, Jas could begin the process of getting on with the reality that his life was nothing more than being an enslaved soldier in the GAR.

The doorway to the hangar loomed before them, and Jas turned his focus to the place where he last saw _Les'ika_. It seemed a lifetime ago now that she was pulled from his hand and lost in the confusion of that moment. He barely had a glimpse of her wrapped in the king's arms before the duchess beckoned them elsewhere, and all Jas could remember of _Les'ika_ with her father was how a father and daughter's bond could be so extraordinary.

Stepping through the doorway to the hangar, Jas' eyes caught sight of the small Republic transport that was to take Crimson off Tochin and onto whatever clandestine mission they were assigned next. The ship was only slightly larger than a LAAT/i, but it was equipped with a hyperdrive, making it distance-worthy.

Jas felt his thoughts linger away from the ship, knowing that he had done everything he could to ensure _Les'ika's_ safety now that he had received his endex. He had no choice but to follow his next set of orders, and he was certain that Tarj was the best man for the job of protecting _Les'ika_. He could feel it in his gut that Tarj would ensure no harm would come to her again.

Jas had also decided that he would not make a request of Tarj for further information about _Les'ika's_ life, but he was confident that if he ever wanted to be updated on how she was doing, he had no doubt that Tarj would indulge him with everything from who she married and how many younglings she had. However, Jas didn't want to know any of that. He didn't want or need that kind of distraction. Once the transport was going to lift off Tochin's soil, Jas was going to send this mission into the black abyss of his memories and never think of it again. He would only use his memories of _Les'ika's_ kindness as his means to continue fighting, to know that he was going to save her and others like her. He should be grateful for the moments that she had given him, the moments of something the civilians called romance. However, he knew it would be safest for him to never entertain the idea that he would see her again.

Movement suddenly caught Jas' attention and he pulled his eyes away from the Republic transport only to be struck by the sight of _Les'ika_ trying to maneuver around pallets of supply crates. He watched for a bare moment as her long curls bounced around her shoulders, the tight spirals tamed once again to frame her face rather than look like an unruly tangle. The indigo dress she wore was bordered with a long, sheer overcoat made from a thin material that was fitted to her body, and the light blue color gave a sparkle to her eyes.

Jas realized he was staring when he had to force a breath into his chest. He glanced at his brothers long enough to comprehend that they had turned away from the transport, wanting to take the opportunity to say goodbye to the princess.

Jas swallowed hard, wondering how he could possibly leave Tochin, especially now that everything he had tried to realign with his emotions had exploded out of his mental box, and the thought of trying to start over again with picking up and packing those pieces was just too large of a task to take on right now.

Suddenly an unfamiliar male voice broke out in the hangar, the words more of an annoyed reprimand than a concern. "Highness, this is no place for you."

Jas pulled his attention away from himself and looked over to _Les'ika_, watching as she had stopped short in her movements. Near her ankles, the bottom hem of her dark blue dress had caught on the corner of one of the crates, and she gave the impression of being in a hurry, as she started to tug the fabric gently trying to pull it free.

The older guard, the one who had chastised the princess, moved towards _Les'ika_ and put a hand out to stop her from pulling on her skirt. Jas noted that this guard's dark green uniform was tight around his midsection and his lack of action was obvious in the pristine appearance of the clothing he wore. His short, dark hair framed his serious face, and he gave the impression that he didn't have time to be bothered looking after some inquisitive royal who decided to make an adventure in the hangar.

Arlesse briefly looked to the guard, but her attention quickly returned to Crimson, as she realized that they were no longer progressing towards the transport ship but was moving towards her. Ignoring the guard's hand, she pulled once again on the skirt and heard the sound of it tear, but she wasn't concerned with the small gash in the fabric. Glad to be free, she started again towards Crimson, only to be stopped by another of the guards.

"Please, Highness," a middle-aged woman said, gently trying to restrain Arlesse by grasping her upper arm. This guard was dressed the same as her older counterpart, again the uniform showing little to no use other than a means of rank. The woman's straight brown hair was tucked neatly into a bun on the back of her head, and her blue eyes bore into Arlesse like some kind of scolding mother. "You've damaged your clothing. You father would not approve of you wandering here."

Arlesse tried to pull her arm free, growing increasingly frustrated. "My father knows I'm here. Please, I have to…"

"Let's get you somewhere safe," the woman smiled patronizingly, ignoring the princess' protest.

"You don't understand…" Arlesse tried again, feeling that everything was crumbling around her, and she couldn't grasp the pieces without dropping more of them.

Jas felt like he was stuck in some kind of thick fog as couldn't move fast enough, and his fists instinctively clenched at how they treated _Les'ika_ like she was nothing more than a child who needed to be herded back to within the enclosure that they used to keep her safe. He opened his mouth to tell them all to stop and back away from her when Dusty suddenly stepped ahead of him.

"With all due respect, Ma'am," Dusty said, smiling like some kind of military propaganda poster boy as he walked confidently up to the guard. Charismatic charm exuded off the cloned soldier as he spoke, his words accompanied by an innocent grin and a twinkle in his eye. It was a tactic that Jas knew he had no ability to pull off, yet he watched in surprised awe as Dusty nailed it flawlessly. "We'd like the opportunity to wish your princess a fond farewell before we embark on our next mission. We would be honored if you could spare us just a few minutes to graciously thank this fine noble woman for the opportunity we had to rescue her."

The guard eyed Crimson, seeming to decide if it was something she should allow, and after a moment, she smiled with a strange blush as Dusty winked at her. Relaxing her grasp on Arlesse, the guard decided to let the princess continue on her way towards the Republic soldiers.

Dusty looked down at _Les'ika_ and gave the top of her head a little ruffle with his fingers. "That's better. I didn't recognize you all cleaned up and royal. At least with the gash in your dress and your hair unkempt, you're the girl I'm used to rescuing."

Arlesse smiled with an embarrassed blush and touched a hand to her hair, trying to move some of the curls back to where they belonged but gave up when she realized she couldn't do so without a reflective panel. "Do you really have to go? Is there any way to…"

"Not our choice," Mouse interrupted quietly with a shrug. "Orders."

Gath smiled, allowing regret to show in his eyes because they couldn't stay on Tochin, and he was glad that Jas had recommended Tarj remain here in their place. He could see that the princess would need the support of someone like Tarj who wouldn't treat her like a helpless child. "There's a war that needs us."

"I wish there wasn't," Arlesse said softly.

"Well, I wouldn't want to be here much longer anyway," Dusty said, ruffling _Les'ika's_ hair again and giving a glare at the guards as he dropped his voice for a moment. "I'd be too inclined to shoot everyone."

Arlesse tried not to laugh as she followed Dusty's eyes. "They don't mean any real harm. They just know no other way…"

"Tarj will teach them other ways," Mouse interrupted with that mischievous but playful glint in his eyes when _Les'ika's_ words didn't really finish.

Gath nodded his head to his brothers, silently advising them that it was time to go, and he decided that it would be best to give Jas some privacy with _Les'ika_ before it was too late. "Come on, _vode_, we need to check in with the pilot."

Putting a hand on Jas' shoulder and making his words nearly inaudible, Gath told him in _Mando'a_ that he couldn't stall their departure forever, but he would do what he could to give Jas a few extra minutes.

Jas didn't waste the opportunity Gath was offering, and he began to close the gap between _Les'ika_ and himself, pausing once to look back at his brothers. He saw that they had already caught up with the clone pilot in the hangar and were conversing with him. Turning his attention back to _Les'ika_, Jas had a million questions and a thousands words he wanted to say all at once. His emotions begged for him to pull _Les'ika_ into his arms and hold her, and all he could think about was pressing his lips on hers.

"My father said we can be together," Arlesse said quickly, making herself say what needed to be said before there was no more time to do so. "There's an ancient law no one uses anymore because there has been no need in centuries, but the law is still valid."

Jas felt like someone had just kicked him in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. He was still trying to comprehend that _Les'ika_ was actually standing before him again, and now he was entirely confused at the concept of being able to legally prolong his time with her.

Arlesse took a couple more steps towards Jas and stopped when she was within arms' length of him. She shook her head, thinking that maybe Jas didn't understand what she was trying to say so she began explaining it again in a calmer tone. "My father spoke with me this morning. He said if you vow to be my knight, we can be together."

Holding the braid her father had cut off her head, Arlesse looked at it and tried to explain the law the way her father had told it to her just before she ran out of the garden. "Nobles are restricted as to who they can marry, but Papa said that centuries ago, a duchess had challenged that law when she chose a knight for her companion. In her time, she used the argument that knights were exposed regularly to the etiquette and knowledge that occurs in royal court. Because of this, knights were not only protectors back then but were believed to have an understanding of the functions of a monarchy."

Taking another daring step closer and smiling with hope, she finished, "No one ever removed the law from our doctrine so it's still valid. For us to be together, all you have to do is vow to be my knight."

Jas felt his blood suddenly run cold as it seemed to have stopped pumping through his body, causing a sickening chill in him, and it pained him to have to reject _Les'ika_. He didn't want to leave her, and the thought of her offering him her companionship wasn't something he ever expected he would have in his predestined life. Unfortunately, he was a clone, a being cursed to a shortened existence, either because he'd die in war or because his body's accelerated aging would just force him to die too quickly.

Feeling his voice break, he told her sadly, "I can't. I'm obligated in duty to the Republic, and it would be considered desertion and betrayal to the Republic if I stayed here when I am ordered elsewhere."

Arlesse risked another step towards Jas, closing the gap between them, and she raised her hand to his arm. She could see in his eyes how his own words stung him, and she remembered the stories of her childhood, the tales of valiant guardians and noble heroes. A wild thought occurred to her, and she dared to offer him such a bold idea. "Knights are known to go on long quests. Think of your duty to the Republic as a quest you need to fulfill, and when the war is over, we can then be together."

Jas glanced at her small hand upon his armor, her touch not an invasion but a comfort and a need. He briefly wondered if the war would end in enough time for him to ever be with her before he's too old. "What if the war takes years?"

"I'd wait for you," she told him softly. "But, I can't force you to do this, Jas. It has to be your choice, your decision."

Jas took a deep breath and brought one of his hands to the one she had placed on his armor. He gently took hold of her fingers, absorbed in the petite size of them, still amazed by their vast differences. As he looked into her eyes, he felt lost at the concept that she offered her companionship to him and was allowing him to make a choice. He wondered if he would ever meet any other woman who would dare to be so fond of him, and the more he thought about it, the more he was certain that he would be a _di'kut_ to walk away from the life _Les'ika_ wanted to share with him.

"What if I never return?" he asked, his fingers grasping hers tighter. He couldn't imagine letting her go now, not after he finally touched her again. However, he needed to understand what his absence would cause for her, especially if it would be permanent.

Arlesse took a heavy breath, caught between the joy of Jas' touch and the fear that he would not be able to promise her what she hoped he could. "Without proof of your death or disloyalty, I am to assume until I die that you will return."

Jas thought of the clone trooper from Hazar's ship who had never been identified, and if that happened to him, _Les'ika_ would be doomed for the rest of her life waiting for someone who would never return. He shook his head now and looked at their entwined fingers, knowing he had to let her go but was unable to release his hand from her. "I can't do that to you. You deserve better than me."

Arlesse didn't try to hold back any longer the observations her father had made. The words just escaped her, and she saw no reason not to say them. "Jas, I don't need a lifetime with you to understand what I feel…" she paused long enough to allow the tidal wave of emotion to wash over her and let herself drown in the brown infinity of his eyes. "I'm in love with you. There's no one else I want to spend my life with."

Jas felt the chill in his body suddenly warm his chest, sparking into an inferno. Words he never entertained in his wildest daydreams were honestly told to him by a woman far beyond any kind of societal ranking that he would ever imagine knowing. Jas knew he was never supposed to be anything more than a man used to fight a war that wasn't his and now he had a princess – a royal-born woman of all people – declaring her love for him. What kind of man would he be to walk away from her and what she wanted to share with him?

Jas was vaguely aware that with every exchange of their conversation, the gap that was between them continued to close tighter. However, the part of him that was a soldier spoke, still trying to make sense in the absurdity of them being together. "I'll die before you're even old."

"I'll take twenty years of happiness, if that's all you can give," she told him softly, seeing the turmoil in his eyes as he fought against the restraints of his duty. "You can't tell me you don't feel the same."

This time Jas closed his eyes and took a deep breath wondering how she could fall in love with a cursed man like him. He couldn't even give her a full lifetime, and he was enslaved to the obligations of a solider in the Republic Army. However, his hand moved on instinct and reached forward, cupping her cheek. He felt his gloved fingers gently comb into her unknotted, but coiled hair. He leaned his forehead onto hers, his voice quiet. "_Les'ika_, it would be wrong of me to make you wait, just to share a fraction of our lives together."

Arlesse melted into Jas' touch, words eluding her, as she only wanted to remember every moment she ever shared with him. She felt the heat of his breath as it passed over her lips, and she closed her eyes waiting for him to close that gap. She held her breath in expectation of the final kiss they would share before he would walk out of her life forever, a soldier driven by his sense of duty, leaving behind forever a princess that was destined to live in the shadows.

For a long moment, Jas thought about everything – everything from how they met in a mercenary's prison cell to the journey they shared in Tochin's forest that had led them to where they are now. He thought about her being forced into a relationship with someone who would never respect her or give her the compassionate affection she deserved, and he understood Duchess Janelle's words about _Les'ika_ needing someone who will teach her everything while being able to protect her. It now made so much sense to him, Janelle's riddle so very clearly showing him why she interrogated him in the manner that she had. Last night, the duchess had provided Jas with the expectations that Vollan and she had for any suitor who dared to pursue _Les'ika_.

Understanding so much more than he ever dared to in such a monarchial society, Jas sympathized with _Les'ika's_ preference to be alone for the rest of her life, waiting for a man who might not ever return rather than give her affections to someone who would never see her as anything more than some pawn to be used as a means to access a higher ranking in the royal society.

No longer able to fight his attraction for this complex young woman, Jas could not stop himself and finally gave in to that consuming need he had for her. He allowed his lips to take hers and suddenly heard commotion around him as the guards had begun verbalizing their concerns that the princess needed to be escorted out of the hangar right away. However, that distraction was quickly followed by an accent that mirrored Jas' own.

Jas pulled back from _Les'ika_, catching the sight of the familiar green and white armor of his brother intervening between the guards and him. He saw Tarj give a quick salute, a silent signal that he would keep the guards at bay for them and that he had already taken on his duty to protect _Les'ika_.

Dropping his attention back to _Les'ika_ again, Jas wondered how he would cope with not being able to see her or touch her while he was deployed, but he would be damned now if he allowed himself to get killed and not return to her. Not realizing just how buried he was in his thoughts, he made no resistance when _Les'ika_ leaned up to him and continued the kiss he had broken off, pressing her lips to his, unconcerned with who might be watching them or what repercussions she might receive because of the emotions that they shared.

After a few moments, though, Jas gently released her lips and pulled back to study _Les'ika_ and the symmetry of her face that he thought was so attractive about her. He knew now what choice he had to make, and he knew that she was the only woman in the galaxy for him. Why she wanted to be with a clone who aged too quickly to enjoy life, he didn't care. He knew what he saw in her eyes when she looked at him, and there was no one else who would ever give him that kind of compassion.

"I don't want to leave you, _Les'ika_," he breathed softly, finally putting into words the emotions he had been feeling for the past couple days. "I would die for you and not because of orders but because of my own choosing. I want to be your knight, but I have no choice, and I must leave for now."

Cupping her face with both his hands, Jas buried himself in her blue irises, finding everything about her that made him unable to walk away and forget her. "_Les'ika_, I swear that I will come back to you."

Arlesse trembled at the depth of his words and the truth she saw in his eyes. She knew there was no other man who would ever feel this strongly for her. She could clearly see that he would come back for her to protect her and die for her if he needed to do so. His emotions for her showed clearly though his dark irises, seeing her for more than just the invisible title that hovered above her. She knew she was right to choose Jas and as she felt the braid in her hand, she remembered the purpose it would provide in their lives.

Bringing forth the small, woven lock of her hair, the lock that her father had cut from her head only a short time ago as part of his acceptance of her suitor, Arlesse kept her eyes locked with Jas' brown eyes. "Traditionally, a braid of hair is the gift a noblewoman gives to her suitor as a promise that she will remain faithful and wait for his return."

Out of the speakers on Jas' helmet, they heard Dusty's voice and Jas had nearly forgotten that he had the piece of equipment attached to his hip on an open channel. "_You need to speed it up_, ner vod. _Gath is running out of excuses_."

Arlesse took a soft breath, allowing herself to drown one last time in his dark irises while she took one of Jas' hands from her face and placed the braid in it. "We don't have time to make our words any more official so I accept your promise and take you as my knight. In return, I am your devoted lady-in-waiting."

Jas collected the lock of hair and released her as he started to reach for his _buy'ce_. However, _Les'ika_ was quicker and grabbed his hand again before he unclipped the helmet from his belt.

"You are required to give me something as a promise that you will remain faithful to me until you return, just as I have. Without such a token, another suitor could contest my loyalty to you or make a proposal to my father in your absence."

Jas tried to think what he could possibly offer her. He had nothing and owned nothing. Everything he ever wore or carried was standard issue from the GAR, and he wondered how he was supposed to give her what he didn't own. Precious seconds were ticking quickly away, and Jas mentally inventoried his kit as well as the compartments on his armor that were used for storing things.

Suddenly, inspiration struck as Jas remembered he never empted out one of his belt pouches. Jas put her braid in an empty pouch on his belt while he pulled open another one. Bringing his hand forward, he carefully laid in her palm one of the violet shells he had found in the cavern by the lake where they shared their first kiss.

"I don't own anything, and I can't offer you something that you deserve," he said.

Arlessse looked to the small token and gasped softly. "Jas, where did you find this?"

"In the cave by the lake," he answered, concerned that he had done something wrong. "I thought we might have needed them for bartering if we ever reached a town. They look expensive."

Her blue eyes came to his brown irises, and she shook her head smiling while she reached behind her neck and loosened the necklace of the seven-pointed star. "Value-wise, it's worthless, nothing more than a pebble on a beach. But, to me, it's everything. This tiny shell holds more than it was ever meant to."

When Arlesse opened the star, Jas once again saw the images of her mother and the letter from when she left _Les'ika_. He didn't speak any more of the locket and the contents it held because as far as he was concerned, she had shared that part of her with him already. Instead, he watched silently as Arlesse set the violet shell in the locket and put it back around her neck.

"As far as the pilot and anyone not of the Reject Squad is concerned, you're saying goodbye to her permanently, and I'm trying to convince you that you need to get your _shebs_ onto the ship," Mouse said after he silently stepped toward the two of them. His hand, however, came before him, and in it was the pair of comlinks he had finished refurbishing just the night before. The angle he stood at had hidden the transaction, not allowing anyone else in the hangar to notice his contribution to his brother's insanity. "Use these to keep in contact…privately."

Jas understood the tone of Mouse's voice, and he nodded in thanks recalling how Mouse had reworked the two comlinks, so the devices would be on an old, secure line. Jas knew that this would allow the two of them to communicate without their signal getting sliced.

Both Jas and Arlesse each took one of the comlinks. Jas stuffed his into the pouch on his belt with the braid. He was going to find safe places to store the tokens as soon as they lifted off.

Mouse disappeared just as silently as he had appeared, and Dusty's voice again came over Jas' helmet speaker. "_Shab! Did you marry her or what?_"

"I need to go," Jas sighed sadly. He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw that Dusty had his helmet on and was sending his question over the helmet's private channel. Gath and the others had started to step onto the transport. Jas knew that time had expired, and he could not delay his next mission any longer.

"Tarj will protect you for now," he told her quickly. "But, I'll be back. I promise."

Arlesse started to take a step back, to let Jas know that she was able to let him go for now. However, Jas was quicker as he pulled her against him unexpectedly and kissed her strongly. His hands gently held _Les'ika_ captive to him, daring to prolong the moment, as he knew it was the last contact he would have with her for an extended amount of time, and he dreaded the thought that he may never see her again.

"_Five seconds,_ ner vod, _or you're classified as a deserter._" Gath's voice was serious, with an urgency that he could not delay their departure any longer.

Arlesse brought one of her hands to Jas' chin and with regret she gently pushed him back, breaking the kiss that she longed to finish one day. The last thing she wanted to have happen right now was to see Jas punished because of her, especially after she saw what had nearly happened to Dusty in the forest.

Arlesse's words were hushed with breathlessness, her voice soft. "Jas, go."

"_Ni kar'taylir darasuum gar_," Jas whispered to her. Then, he set his _buy'ce_ on his head while he was in the midst of turning from a confused _Les'ika_ and running towards his brothers. As he tried to climb onboard the transport, the vehicle began lifting off the ground. He reached his arm up and found another arm gripping his forearm, helping to haul him into the craft.

Looking back at _Les'ika_ once more, Jas saw her fingers graze over the pendant around her neck, and he knew he was a part of her now. The grip on his arm never lessened and Jas turned to see which of his brothers was holding onto him, as he was preparing to argue that he had no intentions to jump ship, literally.

Realizing that it was Gath, Jas wasn't certain what to expect, other than the usual complaint and lecture about bending rules. However, his brother surprised him by making a solemn pact. "You're coming back to her, _ner vod_, and I'll personally see to it that you do."

Jas didn't know what to say by Gath's unexpected gesture and as he turned once again to try and find _Les'ika_ in the hangar, the transport's doors closed around them.

"_Vor entye_," Jas said looking at his brother once more and releasing his hand. He could only thank him for finally understanding. Then, Jas reached into the pouch on his belt, pulling out the comlink, hurrying to send a message to _Les'ika_ before he was involved in a mission briefing and wouldn't have time to explain the things he needed to tell her.


	21. Chapter 20

_Author's Notes_: I want to thank everyone for their support, especially after the posting of the last chapter. All the wonderful wishes have brightened my spirits and I'm doing much better now.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 20**

_I'm sorry my first message to you probably isn't what you expected, but we barely had any time before I departed to explain. Because of the nature of my missions, we must be careful in how we communicate so that if my comm. is ever found, your identity remains unknown. First, we must never use our names. These messages will only be between you and I so it would be unnecessary anyway. Second, I cannot go into detail about where I am assigned. Much of what I do is classified, but I will try to share with you what I am permitted. Third, I will teach you more _Mando'a_ so that we can build our own _dadita_, our own code. Lastly, I have to ask that you please delete this message after you read it. Perhaps I am being overly cautious, but I would just feel safer if you did. Also, before I forget, I realize that you didn't understand '_Ni kar'taylir darasuum gar_' means 'I love you.'  
__Stay _kotyc_.  
_Private comm. message from RC-1147 "Jas" to Princess Arlesse Psach of Tochin

**38 Days after Order 66  
****Tochin Moon III**

Arlesse nestled herself in her usual place in the garden, under the orchid willow tree and buried herself in the sweet blossoms that hung from the branches. The lavender flowers cascaded down the yellow vine-like branches seeming to cover her in an umbrella of natural yellow and lavender.

She brought forth the special text-only comlink that Mouse had given her over eight months ago, the one that would link her directly to Jas. Her fingers began touching on the small keys, never thinking of writing him as any kind of labor. It was always a gift to be sending him a message because that meant she had received one prior, and it meant Jas was still alive. A couple weeks ago, Jas' message had told her that he and his brothers were going to a planet he was certain she would find beautiful. He couldn't tell her where exactly he was, though, because of the nature of his missions. This way if anyone did intercept the message, there was no way to pinpoint exactly which planet he was describing because it could very easily be any number of planets in the galaxy. Jas had also told her how much he continued to miss her and that he wanted to be there with her. After that his messages had grown extremely inconsistent, almost to the point that they had stopped, and even though Arlesse's heart broke every moment they were apart, she needed to write him once more in the hopes that this time he would be able to answer her.

Arlesse let her fingers continue to gently touch the keys, feeling her fear for Jas begin rising again as she thought about how a couple weeks ago she and Tarj were discussing some of the pranks that he and Crimson had pulled on each other while on Kamino. As Tarj was laughing in his memories of capturing Gath in the net he had made from discarded bodysuits, a message came across his communicator. Arlesse remembered the eerie vision of the man in the black robes, and how his gravelly voice simply uttered three words: "_Execute Order 66_."

Tarj had told the image, "Yes sir." Then, his confused irises looked to hers, and she could clearly see that he didn't understand the order the robed man had just given him.

Arlesse had gently prodded Tarj for information about what "Order 66" meant while their eyes were locked between the ignorance of a civilian and the loyalty of a trained soldier. Keeping his eyes on Arlesse as though she could help him make sense of the command, Tarj had honestly told her that it meant the Jedi had acted as traitors to the Republic Government and that the Clone Army were to execute all Jedi on sight.

Arlesse knew that there were no Jedi on Tochin as Paxa Tanner had been recalled to the Temple within the same time that Crimson had departed. However, Arlesse couldn't help but wonder now if her estranged mother had been amongst the executed Jedi. She didn't know how to approach Tarj for information on Darian Psach, and she feared that if she gave too much away, it would turn suspicions on her, even though she carried no Force sensitivity. Instead, Arlesse had asked Tarj if he would have killed any Jedi without proof of their involvement in the conspiracy to overturn the Republic.

Arlesse thought back to how Tarj had simply shook his head, and offered an honest, "I don't know." He said he didn't have many opportunities to work with the Jedi, except Paxa Tenner during the timeframe of Arlesse's abduction, and in that short time he had no belief that the Jedi even wanted to take over the Republic. He said that Paxa was merely concerned with the well being of King Vollan. He explained how Paxa had feared for King Vollan's emotional health, as it seemed more and more that Arlesse's abduction had lead to her death. Paxa had merely continued trying to maintain Vollan's faith in the Republic and in the galaxy. She feared his impending emotional breakdown and had continued to do what she could to keep him focused on the accomplishments he had achieved in his life.

Arlesse pulled from her ruminations about that moment of Order 66 and paused in her message to Jas long enough to look up and enjoy the orchids that hung on the vine-like branches, thinking about how one day she would share this hiding place with him and take pleasure in a summer afternoon together, like the one she was currently enjoying.

A few seconds later, she turned her attention back down to the communicator and continued writing her message as her thoughts spun about her head, hoping this time he would reply while hoping that somehow her mother had remained safe.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps broke her thoughts and she looked out between the branches to see the white and green armor that belonged to Tarj. Arlesse remembered how Jas had told her before he left that Tarj was going to take care of her until his return, but what she didn't know until a couple months ago was that Jas had instrumented Tarj's transfer from the beginning. For as much as Tarj and Crimson were adversaries during their training together, they were also protective of each other. Tarj was one of the few people who knew about her ongoing romance with Jas, and Tarj had remained her loyal defender. Over the course of their time together, Tarj became a close friend to Arlesse, very much like the brother she never had, and he had finally told her about his vow that he would keep her safe for Jas.

Right now it seemed that Tarj's simple promise had turned into something of a challenge after Tochin had become all but taken over by members of the newly formed Empire. Moff Gillard Harkin had taken it upon himself to split up Tarj's men, despite Tarj's protests. Harkin had separated the squad and dispersed them throughout the towns on Tochin Moon II as well as send some of Tarj's men to the mining complex on Moon III. The Tochin Guards had been disbanded, and a new squadron of stormtrooper soldiers had been assigned in their palace. The new soldiers were from the new batches of clones, and Tarj told Arlesse that he instantly knew that they were different, their mannerisms not personable but bred strictly to obey orders. He had told her that although those men thought for themselves, they were quick to follow every command that the Imperial government issued but gave little acknowledgement to the orders or requests from the Tochin royals.

Arlesse pushed aside her history with Tarj as she brought her eyes forward to see him parting the hanging branches with an arm and ducking beneath them as he removed his helmet.

Tarj took off his _buy'ce_ as he approached her and realized it was something he always did when addressing Jas' girl. It was nothing but a small gesture to return the kindness she had always shown him, but he could see that it mattered a great deal to her. And, Tarj understood why it meant so much to see his face. It allowed him to be unhidden in their conversations, showing that he was still a human and there was something comforting in the vulnerability they both shared. Tarj thought it somehow made him stronger to be revealed so often because it was something he had never seen any of the new clones do for any of the civilians.

Stepping close to the princess, Tarj lowered his voice. "They're coming for you."

Arlesse looked to him puzzled, entirely not understanding why he seemed so troubled. "Who is…"

"Moff Harkin has issued an arrest on all the nobles, starting with the royal family. Your father and cousin have already been taken."

Tarj saw the sudden panic in her eyes and then looked down to the small comlink in her hands. He knew exactly to whom she was writing, and he had to make sure that a message got to Jas that would warn him that Tochin was no longer safe and that the woman he loved was in trouble. Tarj turned his voice into a bare whisper, offering gentle instructions for how to end her communication and send Jas the message he needed. "Write nothing more. Just tell him _aru'ela_ and end the transmission."

Arlesse saw the concern in Tarj's dark eyes, and she did as instructed, trusting Tarj just as she would have if Jas had been with her. She worked her fingers as quickly as they would go on the small device, typing the single word she remembered Jas teaching her a few months ago.

"Now hide the comlink," Tarj told her softly. He watched as the princess reached upwards into branches, finding a small niche where the trunk split apart, and she placed the comlink there.

"Why are they doing this?" she asked, looking to Tarj for answers and trying to keep her fear contained.

"The moff found evidence of a conspiracy against the Empire," Tarj explained, bringing his helmet towards his head now.

"Will you continue to protect me?"

"I don't know, _Vod'ika_," Tarj said sadly, addressing her with the nickname of "little sister" that he had for the past few months. He paused before he got the helmet over his face, hating the position he was now in. He had no one he would consider a friend or an ally right now, except for her. All his men were gone, and Tarj could clearly see what he didn't weeks ago. Harkin had phased out the last of the Republic Clone Army that was stationed on Tochin, and that left Tarj with no way to reason with these new clones about these orders. Tarj was merely a bodyguard to her now, a former commander with no one to command because the new clones had not been given instructions to acknowledge his orders. Tarj was certain this arrest was a test of his loyalty, and he had to play the game on both sides in order to keep both the princess and himself safe. Offering the truth as best he could, Tarj told her, "I will only be able to watch over you and make certain no one harms you without reason. Otherwise, they will charge me as a traitor and most likely kill me for insubordination. Then, you would be left with no one."

Arlesse saw the pain in Tarj's eyes, the conflict between the vow he made to his brother and the loyalty of having to follow these new orders. She took a heavy breath, unable to withhold the fear inside her of being arrested. She was scared to death as to what Gillard Harkin would do to her or her family, yet she could find no fault with Tarj for only following the orders he was required to obey. Her voice came out small and soft as her hand touched cautiously upon his elbow. "Jas would understand."

Tarj felt his eyes linger on hers for a moment and saw once again what Jas had found in this princess. Her fright for her life was strong in her eyes but so was forgiveness for him, for being forced into servitude because of orders that demanded his action.

"Harkin will probably start with just questions," he instructed now, trying to push aside the kindness this princess had always shown him. He knew that if there was anyone on this world who was innocent of the traitorous crimes the moff was accusing, it was Arlesse Psach. "Don't lie, _Vod'ika_. Leave out extra information and keep your responses short."

Arlesse shuddered as she heard the footsteps coming from the distance. Instinctively, she felt herself slide in behind Tarj seeking solace in the protection he had given her for the last eight months.

"I'm sorry," Tarj told her as he sealed the helmet over his head, trying to hide the guilt he knew was on his face for having to betray his brother's request. He only hoped that Jas would understand that in order to protect his princess, Tarj had to ensure he stayed with her, even if that meant arresting her and guarding her in some cell within the palace. "But, I'll stay with you as long as Harkin lets me."

The heavy thud of footsteps filled the garden, and Tarj turned without warning towards Arlesse, grabbing her by the arm as gently as he could, making it appear that he was being rough. The fear in her eyes was very real, and Tarj knew that she would not have to convince anyone of her fright.

Pulling her tiny frame easily, Tarj took Arlesse with him from under the sanctuary of the tree and brought her forth to the group of six stormtroopers, only to find that they were all holding blasters aimed at her.

"She's unarmed and cooperative," Tarj said.

The stormtroopers didn't lower their weapons and gave no indication that they would. Instead of relaxing their guard, two of them began a search of the garden while the other four fell into a prisoner transfer formation. They surrounded Tarj and Arlesse while leading her into the palace.

Arlesse tried to look behind her to see if they found the comlink, but Tarj gently squeezed her arm and pulled her along, silently warning her not to give away anything by reacting to their search.

Once inside the palace, the stormtroopers led Tarj and Arlesse to a deserted hallway where all the doors were locked from the outside as the keypads had been overridden by Harkin's personal codes. One of the troopers entered a code into one of the cells on the far side of the hallway, and Tarj could only imagine that meant the other rooms were already filled with royal prisoners.

Tarj gently pushed Arlesse into the room, wishing the stormtroopers would have backed away so that he could offer her a word of trust, something to let her know that he was going to do whatever he could to keep her safe. Unfortunately, they stayed their guard until Tarj released her and stepped away. Then, one of the stormtroopers simply locked the door and looked to Tarj. "Moff Harkin said you're to shoot her on sight if she escapes."

Tarj nodded silently as he swallowed carefully under the helmet, hiding his concern for the princess. He understood the moff's orders perfectly now, and he knew it was yet another test of his loyalty, to see who exactly he was obeying. If he did anything that Harkin would consider out of line, it would mark him as a traitor. Tarj knew that Arlesse would not dare try to escape because that just wasn't in her nature, but he knew that he was required to stand guard silently, like the soldier he was trained to be. It was the only way to bring his credibility to Harkin, and that was what he needed most right now if he was going to keep his vow to Jas.

* * *

Arlesse had moved about the small, pale yellow room. It was a two-person parlor that once was used for private negotiations that required a less formal setting. The room was occasionally used for locking up two leaders together until they resolved their differences without the interference of their aides, and because of that there were no windows to provide a distraction. In fact, the only distraction in the parlor was the small border of dark green ivy that was painted on the trim near the ceiling.

With nothing more than two small wooden benches and an empty tea set to keep her company, it seemed that hours had passed since Arlesse had been locked in the room. She really had no idea how much time had passed, and she had no idea what had even happened to Tarj. It had been so quiet outside the room, and she had strained her ears for a long time trying to hear something.

Wondering if Harkin had forgotten about her and if she would starve to death, Arlesse closed her eyes while she sat on one of the small benches. She found solace in thinking about Jas, and that was where she placed herself rather than in this small prison awaiting an interrogation or worse.

Allowing her memories to wander back to when she and Jas had first met, she thought about how he had stayed with her in that horrid prison cell on Hazar's ship, holding onto her as he led her into the small escape pod. She never imagined in her life how in that one single moment, her trust had connected so genuinely with anyone. She'll never understand why her heart found such faith with a soldier, but she had accepted it without any regret from the moment she felt that first ping of emotion for him.

Opening her eyes, Arlesse took a heavy breath as her fantasies played a scenario in which Jas would come for her now as he had at that time. She imagined how he would blast away the door while his brothers cleared a path for them to escape. It would be just like being rescued from Hazar, but this time she would be less frightened and more comfortable around the men in Crimson.

Rubbing her eyes with her hands, Arlesse felt the thickness in her throat, as she knew that her fantasy was nothing more than that. Jas was millions of light years away and possibly dead...she stopped her thoughts. She couldn't believe that, not yet. It had only been a couple weeks and with the confusion Tarj assured her that Order 66 had caused, it would take a little more time before Jas might be able to contact her again.

With a sudden swish the door opened and it startled Arlesse out of her fantasies and memories. Her eyes looked to Gillard Harkin as he entered the cell, and she forced her thoughts about Jas to the side so as not to raise any suspicions about her soldier lost in the rising Imperial galaxy.

As Arlesse focused her attention on Gillard Harkin, she remembered his wanderings throughout the palace. He had passed by her occasionally, mostly offering only a very curt nod. It was nothing different from what Arlesse had usually experienced with the other nobles in the palace, and she had decided to keep their exchanges in that manner. She didn't want Moff Harkin to know about her distanced relationship with Jas anyway.

However, now forced in the small room together, Arlesse had no choice but to really look at this man. She saw that he was aged somewhere in his early to mid thirties, and his hazel eyes reflected green and brown in his irises, depending on how the light struck them. His light brown hair was streaked with blonde highlights and was cut in a neat, short style. His symmetrical face was fair in color with no blemishes, and Arlesse imagined that he could have been a rival to Duke Caspan Cruee had Harkin been a noble in the Tochin court.

The moff stood before Arlesse and looked at her with neither sympathy nor accusation. In the past, his quick exchanges with her had been nothing but tests on her to see how she would react to him and his subtle displays of authority. She didn't seem frightened at those times, seeming to prefer being left alone to stay in her silent reflections. Now, he would have the chance to learn more about this reserved princess, this monarch who had given her position of authority over to her lower-ranked cousin.

Starting his interrogation gently, he merely asked her one question. "What does _aru'ela_ mean?"

Arlesse felt her eyes shifting over Harkin's face, wondering how he knew any kind of _Mando'a_. She wondered if he paid attention to the clone soldiers when they talked or if he had them teach him the language. She remembered what Tarj told her about staying honest but keeping her explanations quick. She briefly tried to imagine if she could lie convincingly and hide the truth that she knew words in _Mando'a_. Unfortunately, she was far too truthful, and Tarj knew that, which was why he offered her a strategy he knew would work for her. Besides, she knew that lying would do her more harm than good, as it only worked in the flimsi stories she read. Lying in real life only led to complications and punishments that she didn't want to even imagine having to endure.

Softly, she answered, "Hostile."

Harkin raised an eyebrow, surprised at the princess' honesty. He expected another verbal battle and another long, unnecessary interrogation that could have easily been avoided. Still, he had to weave out the conspirators against the Empire. The Emperor would be displeased if he didn't do his job correctly, and Harkin had worked far too hard to get into a moff position so young.

Bringing forth the comlink the stormtroopers had found in the garden, Harkin watched the princess' reaction.

Arlesse felt herself flinch at the sight of the comlink. Her heart began crumbling from within, and she feared that she had just killed Jas.

"There's nothing on here to give me cause for concern," Harkin told her. "Although, I have to admit that love letters to a clone seem quite below a princess."

Twisting the communicator around in his fingers as though studying it for a moment, his hazel eyes were distant, inquisitive. Briefly, he didn't exhibit intimidation and power, but wonder and surprise. It changed him completely, making him seem approachable and even benevolent. However, almost as soon as the curiosity sparked, it was erased and he became the interrogator again. Studying her carefully, he questioned, "Tell me why you ended your transmission with the word 'hostile.'"

Arlesse breathed heavily, fearing that if she spoke she would become nothing but a babbling mess, the foolish young woman so many of the nobles believed she was. Instead of speaking, she merely kept her eyes on the comlink, wondering what exactly Harkin would do with it. It was her only link to Jas, her only way to know he was alive and she feared losing that small device. Without it, she could never let Jas know she was still waiting, still hoping for his return. She felt the lump harden in her throat at the thought that he may not come back to Tochin if she wasn't able to write him.

Harkin saw the deeply imbedded devotion in this princess' eyes for whoever the cloned man was on the other end of the comlink. He knew the answer to his question, even though he wanted to hear it in her words. He knew why she ended the transmission with "hostile." It was a warning to the clone, her clone apparently. She was protecting him, warning him to be cautious because her safety had been compromised.

Looking to the device briefly, Harkin tried to find some kind of clue as to what kind of man this clone was that had given it to her. The comlink was an unusual model, he realized, one that was once used centuries ago for merely writing letters and correspondence on a closed signal. The device had been clearly refurbished, tinkered with by one who did so as a hobby rather than an occupation.

Shifting his eyes from the comlink to the princess again, Harkin was aware of the way she simply stared at him, waiting for him to make a decision about what he would do to her. Her eyes glanced at the small comlink every few seconds, her concern obvious that the device meant a great deal to her.

"He taught you more than just _aru'ela_," Harkin observed, deciding that her body language had told him more answers than her truthful babbling ever could. "He was teaching you another language."

Arlesse swallowed hard, trying to push that hardened lump just a little further down her throat so she could talk. After a long moment and a long breath, she finally replied, "Yes."

"Why?"

Feeling the lower brim of her eyes build with a sting of unfallen tears, Arlesse didn't want to talk about Jas. She feared revealing far too much about him and endangering him. She dared not offer how they had been engaged for the last eight months and how she still kept the small gift he had given her inside the star-shaped pendant that forever hung against her chest bone.

Arlesse knew she was far from being strong or brave, but she had to do what she could to keep Jas from danger. Arlesse didn't like the accusations Harkin was implying, and instead of answering his questions, she simply changed the subject by asking her own. Her voice was shaky, and her words broke with emotion, but she used that emotion to her advantage. "Where's my father?"

Harkin raised an eyebrow in further curiosity at this young woman, how she continued to deflect her answers regarding her clone lover. He found he was even more drawn to the romance that she refused to reveal, the puzzle that he had few pieces for and was determined to put together.

"Your father is detained and pending sentencing," Harkin said distractedly as he sat on the bench before her, the one that faced her.

Arlesse choked on a sob and brought one of her hands to her mouth, willing herself not to break apart like she did in Hazar's cell so long ago. She closed her eyes to try to compose herself, to not become the frightened child that Jas had first met. She felt her voice shaking, unable to control the grief that spilled into her words as her eyes opened. "You can't. My father's a good man…"

"Your father has evidence linking him to a conspiracy against the Imperial regiment that was assigned here," Harkin explained more gently than he intended but not entirely certain why. He hadn't been so kind to her enchanting cousin, but then he reasoned it was because Janelle Napith could play the political game and spin her words in ways Harkin found more annoying than admirable. He saw the honesty in this princess and her inability to conjure up lies and twisted stories. She had learned to use silence to her advantage, and he could see that she would have been perfectly content to stay in her garden away from the political world that took place within these palace walls. "Many of the nobles have also been involved. However, there is nothing we can find on you as being one of the conspirators. All we found was your…romantic correspondence with a clone."

Arlesse felt one of those tears slide down her cheek, and she felt like everyone was being pulled away from her. She wanted to save them, but she couldn't, and it reminded her of that poor cloned man who died under Hazar's torture. She quickly wondered if there was anything she could do this time that she couldn't last time. She tried to think of what she could offer, what she could use to bargain with for the lives of Vollan Psach and Janelle Napith.

"What's his rank, number…name?" Harkin asked softly, changing the questions quickly as he saw her thoughts running and calculating. Her silence and the way she stared hard into oblivion showed him that this princess was trying to find a way to save the ones she cared for most. While she was distracted, he knew he had found a potential opportunity and hoped that she might reveal more if he confused her by moving the topics around randomly.

Arlesse shook her head and closed her eyes. She would never betray Jas. She loved him, and he returned the affection equally. He deserved her protection, just as he had done for her. Arlesse knew she couldn't save that anonymous trooper from Hazar, but she could save the one who loved her and had a name. She was not going to give Gillard Harkin any information about Jas.

"I was given a file about Tochin prior to my assignment here," he told her. "I read about your abduction over eight months ago. An unlikely, but highly successful clone commando squad was sent for your rescue."

Arlesse felt her eyes snap open and she sucked in a breath, fearing that this moff knew more than he pretended to know and that there may be nothing she could do to help Jas.

Harkin saw he had her attention, and he continued. "Officially, they went by the name Crimson, but they were regarded as the Reject Squad. Their final assignment was on the planet Felucia. Two of the squad had perished in the confusion that was Order 66."

Arlesse felt her heart pounding so hard in her chest that it throbbed in her eardrums. The lump in her throat had grown painful again, blocking off her breath, and she clenched her fists in her lap trying to convince herself that Moff Harkin was planting seeds of deceit similar to the ones Baron Erle had once tried to do.

"The two who died went by ranks of RC-1182 and RC-1155, but you probably didn't know them as numbered clones. You probably knew them by the names they used: Mouse and Gath."

Arlesse closed her eyes, silently praying that Mouse and Gath hadn't suffered, and she privately grieved for them, knowing that probably no one else would. She further hoped that Moff Harkin was lying, weaving words to seem believable.

"The other two have remained unaccounted for," he continued. "They were lost at some point during the aftermath and confusion that took place on Felucia during the Jedi Purge."

Harkin studied the princess as he recounted the facts he had been given on Crimson Squad. He saw that she remained silent, her grief apparent. Now, however, he decided to try something different. He leaned forward as though offering her compassion and kindness. He pushed a coiled lock of hair over her shoulder gently, giving the impression that he was concerned for this young woman. "You must have known that your infatuation with a clone was never meant to be anything more than a fantasy. He's either dead or a he's become a deserter with a price on his head."

Opening her eyes, Arlesse took a shaky breath and flinched from his touch.

Harkin again felt strangely awed by this girl's ability to protect the identity of her clone so devotedly. He realized that he could force the answers he sought in other ways, methods less comfortable for her. However, the identity of her clone actually wasn't important to the investigation he was required to handle. He would only be satisfying his own nagging curiosity, and that would not be conductive to the Emperor's instructions. Harkin was required to discover Palpatine's enemies and remove them by whatever means necessary. A princess who believed in fantasies and wanted a doomed romance was far from the kinds of enemies Palpatine needed to be worried about. Princess Arlesse's sheltering had made her vulnerable and harmless, and without any grounds to arrest her, Harkin would have plenty of time to learn about her during his tenure on this moon system.

Glancing down at the comlink in his hands once more, Harkin finally handed it over to the princess. Calmly, he told her, "Tarj will remain your guardian, and I know he will see to it that you do not give me a reason to change my mind about your innocence."

Arlesse took the comlink, her relief unmistakable that she would have back the communications device. However, she was not deaf to the warning in Harkin's words. She brought her eyes to his, not quite understanding why he was releasing her and why he dropped his interrogation so quickly.

Seeming to read her thoughts, Harkin offered, "Yours was the first interrogation I had handled all day that did not involve weeding through lies and politics. I had enough with the twisting of words and the alibis for alibis. Your honesty has earned my trust for now."

Arlesse gently chewed her trembling lower lip.

Harkin stood from the princess but hesitated before stepping out the door. "All of your comlink messages have remained intact since they pose no threat. However, we had taken the liberty of removing the frequency and reception devices in it. I can't risk you using it to send messages for help or receive further correspondence from your clone. If he's still alive, he'll be unable to return to you anyway. And, if he is stupid enough to enter Imperial territory without proper orders, he'll be shot on sight for insubordination and desertion."

Feeling as though her heart had been completely torn from her chest and burned to cinders before her, Arlesse released the buildup of tears that had been threatening to break free. She could hold it no longer and allowed the agony to overtake her.

"Commander," Harkin ordered as he exited the cell and looked to the clone who had managed to remain loyal to the princess' personal protection, "She'll remain in your care. See to it that she continues to be no threat."

Tarj answered quickly with a "yes sir" and a salute, hearing the underlying warning clearly in the moff's words. However, Tarj said nothing else as he watched Harkin move down the corridor to the next prisoner he needed to interrogate. When he looked into the parlor that had served as the princess' temporary cell, he saw her sitting on the bench, her hand grasping the comlink so hard that her knuckles showed white. Her body shook from her crying, and the clear lines on her face streamed down her cheeks.

"_Vod'ika_?" he asked carefully, as he unsealed his helmet and set it on his belt.

Arlesse lifted her eyes to look at the man that resembled Jas in many ways but was so very different in others. She showed Tarj the comlink and shook her head. "He's gone. They stopped us from communicating."

Tarj felt his head drop in regret, and he fell onto the bench before her. There was no denying that he had just betrayed his brother in a way he never intended. "I'm so sorry…"

"I love him," she breathed, her body shaking again, as she tried to get her emotions under control. "You know that I truly love him."

"I know," Tarj told her gently as he brought a hand towards hers. "But, for now you'll remain safe. I've been ordered to stay with you."

Arlesse let her eyes connect to his, finding the good man inside that Jas had known, the man Jas trusted would keep her safe.

"Just remember, you're not alone. I made a vow," Tarj told her softly, letting her see the silent promise in his eyes that he would not betray his brother. Then, he gently wrapped his fingers around her hand and helped her to her feet.

Arlesse took a trembling breath, forcing the pain aside of the old wounds and trying to ignore the new ones that had formed. She needed to trust Tarj, just as she had for the past eight months. Gillard Harkin had nearly taken her will and shattered it, trying to destroy the future she dreamed about with Jas. However, Tarj was determined to give her that future. She could see in his eyes that he was willing to do whatever it took to make certain Jas returned for her.

Wrapping her fingers around Tarj's large hand, Arlesse allowed the cloned man to lead her out of the cell.

"I'm hungry," he said casually, changing their moods and honestly letting her know that he needed to eat. "I want to raid the kitchen."

Arlesse felt herself smile in spite of the pain, and for a moment it reminded her of how Jas had comforted her after Baron Erle Zech tried to destroy every memory she had of her father's love for her mother. Holding onto Tarj allowed her to hold onto the belief that she would see Jas again, and she hoped that Tarj would help her keep her faith. She feared Gillard Harkin was keeping her around for more than just her innocence to the crimes against the Empire. She had read enough flimsi-novel stories to know that in order to successfully take over a world, all political and influential persons needed to be removed. Those who hadn't been removed were usually forced into the new regime through more creative means, and Arlesse knew that Tarj would only be able to defend her so much if Harkin plotted what she feared he would do with her.


	22. Chapter 21

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again to everyone for the interest! Snippets in this chapter (the early beginnings of a possible spin-off about Dusty) are dedicated to Spoodles. Once "Knight of Honor" is finished, I may take her up on the challenge of writing a tale about Dusty seeking out Cerina.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 21**

_I think about you every day and hope that you are safe. I know that the war had ended some time ago and I was told it was at the cost of the entire Jedi Order. I haven't heard from you consistently for a few weeks now, and I can't help wondering if you and your brothers survived. My heart aches without knowing what has happened to you, and I worry every moment I receive no reply. I know in one of my previous messages I had told you that we had newcomers settle on Tochin who were assigned here by Emperor Palpatine. They undermine my father's authority and find ways to twist his words against him. Papa and Janelle have shared heated debates with the one who has taken the rank of moff. The new legion of stormtroopers that they provided is not personable either. I'm growing impatient for your response, even a single line of text will_…aru'ela.  
Princess Arlesse Psach's final comlink transmission to RC-1147 (Jas)

**Mandalore  
****63 Days After Order 66**

Jas paced back and forth over a small section of the main gathering room, replaying the last message in his mind that _Les'ika_ had sent him. The desperation in her words had him far too wound up to consider settling himself onto the accommodating couch or into any of the chairs. Although the room was far from decorated, there was something familiar seeming and even relaxed about the structure of the housing. It was like the house itself was inviting and warm, openly accepting anyone who had managed to earn the trust of the gatekeeper named Kal Skirata.

Jas thought about this most unusual clan for a moment, and he almost believed that if he wasn't so worried about what had happened to _Les'ika_, he might be able to consider this place his home as well. Everyone gave the impression that he and Dusty had earned their right to be amongst them. The clan had invited them to every meal and to partake in household activities. Jas had tried a few times over the past couple weeks to enjoy some of the sports recreation that many of his distant brothers were so adept at undertaking. However, Jas was just unable to submerge himself entirely in the entertainment. At one point he had even tried helping with the household chores, but he found that he was just far too restless to keep his concentration on the tasks he was given.

He wasn't intending to dwell so hard on _Les'ika's_ absence and now that he was free from the GAR, the obligation he felt to return to her had been consuming him. He wanted to start their lives together and hated that it had been weeks since he and Dusty had fled the GAR. Jas was growing impatient with his need to be certain that _Les'ika_ had remained safe, especially with the speed at which the Empire seemed to be devouring the galaxy. Upheavals that appeared insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe had sparked the Emperor's wrath, and the Sith lord had taken no mercy with some of the worlds that had tried to protest the new regime. Even peaceful protests were laid to rest efficiently with many individuals arrested, maimed, or killed. The Emperor was taking no chances with his expectations of the galaxy's citizens, and he was ruling through fear to keep everyone where he wanted them.

Jas looked down to his hand, distracted by his thoughts of Emperor Palpatine as he realized that his fingers had somehow found the braided lock that _Les'ika_ had given him before he departed her world. He didn't remember consciously removing the woven curls from his tunic pocket, and he worried about her even more as his thoughts continued to be concerned about the impact Tochin might receive because of the upheavals taking place throughout the galaxy.

Studying the brown braid as he had so many times before, Jas mentally measured the length of the braid, noting that its size extended from his palm to his fingertips. In the light of the gathering room, reddish highlights seemed to sparkle from the dull coloring. Although the hair was secured tightly in strings, the ends had gotten knotted and twisted, despite the fact that the braid itself was still smooth. Jas ran a bare finger over the woven pattern feeling the soft strands, proof of his meticulous caring for the token that his lady-in-waiting had provided to him as part of her vow that she would be patient and await his return to her.

After a long moment of reliving his memories, Jas finally returned the braid to the pocket of his tunic continuing to await the rest of the clan's assembly in the gathering room. Last night, Jas had told Ordo his almost unbelievable story about falling in love with a princess, and the former Null had promised him that he would get his brothers and father to meet with Jas after the daybreak meal.

Jas breathed slowly now as he thought about his abrupt awakening in the early hours of the day, long before dawn even thought about breaking on the horizon. Between his nightmare of _Les'ika's_ death and hearing Kad's aftermath from experiencing a nightmare of his own, Jas decided that he had needed time alone. He had found solace on a bench outside the Skirata house where he had planned to wait by himself until dawn. However, his solace did not last long as Ordo had joined him at the horribly insane hour. Grateful not to have to suffer though his fears by himself, Jas had told Ordo everything about how he met the princess of Tochin and how he was absolutely certain that she had remained devoted to him. He believed that she was still anticipating the day he would return to her, just as equally as he was looking forward to getting back to her.

Jas thought again about the sheer look of disbelief that was etched on Ordo's face. In hindsight, the retelling of how he had earned a princess' affections would seem like fiction on the surface. However, Ordo was smart and analytical, and he had taken a few moments of silence to simply absorb Jas' tale.

At first, Jas had thought Ordo was trying to decide how best to send Jas to an insane asylum. Then, Ordo had told Jas that he was not blind to the genuine emotion that Jas exhibited, and if not for the pure passion in his eyes when he spoke about Arlesse Psach, Ordo probably would never would have believed him. Even still, with Ordo convinced that Jas was both in love with and loved by a princess, Ordo could not hide the brief expression of disbelief on his face.

Jas glanced up at the chronometer on the wall, wondering at what point it would take everyone to begin arriving. Ordo had mentioned last night that he and the Nulls would need to do some research on Tochin to see what had happened there during the last eight months of Jas' time in the war. After they had gathered the data, Ordo had promised that they would analyze what they found to assess any kind of possibility for getting Jas planet-side where he could find his girl and see if she truly had remained as devoted as he had.

Footsteps broke Jas' attention from the chronometer as Dusty entered the room now and sat easily on one of the comfortable chairs. Dusty wore a similar outfit to Jas' as it consisted of a loose tunic and pants as well as boots that were casual but knee-high. The two former commandos both could have passed for common citizens now, if it wasn't for the fact that their faces matched that of Jango Fett.

After a brief moment, Jas took notice to the crooked smirk on his brother's face, the telltale sign that he had enjoyed another long evening with one of the many girls he met who lived on a nearby farm. At first, Jas had thought Dusty was settling down with just one of the girls, but over the course of their time on Mandalore, Dusty confessed that he was openly seeing about four different girls from different farms, and he was trying to keep it so that none of them got jealous. Jas studied Dusty's smirk and how it told the usual story that his evening had gone on much longer into the night than an ordinary dinner with a casual conversation.

That got Jas to momentarily stop his sulking, and he put his attention directly to Dusty as his inquisitiveness had been eating at him. His question portrayed his curiosity and came out innocent rather than accusatory. "Don't you ever think about her anymore?"

"Think about who?" Dusty asked as he settled even further into the cushions and picked a small ball of lint off the arm of the chair.

Jas felt taken aback at how easily Dusty seemed to have forgotten all about the woman from the Denon mission who had inspired him to fight the war. Jas wondered how his brother could possibly forget the things he had told him back on Tochin about Cerina Browlin. Sighing, Jas said, "You told me that you fought the war for Cerina and now you've been unable to stay loyal to any one woman for longer than two nights."

Dusty brushed some of his long hair back off his forehead, vowing silently that he was going to get the strands cut eventually. He just hadn't decided how he wanted it cut, and he really wasn't planning to continue with the discipline of a short, military hairstyle. "Cerina's in the past, _ner vod_, and so is the war."

"Are you suggesting then that I shouldn't find _Les'ika_?"

"No," Dusty said quickly, nearly laughing. "She's waiting for you. I know she is. The two of you actually make me nauseous with your devotion, and that means you're right for each other. Cerina, unfortunately, was a mission – a passing fancy. I can't even be certain that anything about her was real, and even if I wanted to find her, she's probably off the market by now. Beautiful women like her don't last long. Besides, neither of us bothered to give each other a way to communicate. I doubt she was ever interested in me more than that night anyway."

"But, she kept you alive during the war, even if you didn't have a relationship," Jas muttered softly. "Don't you think you should at least make an effort to see if she's even safe?"

Dusty sighed and put his chin in his hand as his elbow rested on the arm of the chair. "I can't settle down," he finally admitted. "I'm not like you. I'm not meant to have some innocent princess come falling into my life. I decided that maybe I'm just meant to be an explorer, a ship passing by with no destination."

"I still think you should try to find Cerina," Jas told Dusty. "If nothing else, you can finally have an answer to the question of Cerina and her honesty about your involvement. You can't tell me that you haven't been at least curious about what's happened to her."

Dusty crossed his arms over his chest now and sat back against the cushion. "How about we worry about one girl at a time here? Yours has priority."

Jas dropped the argument at that and felt his eyes look at an empty section of the floor. His thoughts shifted quickly back to _Les'ika_ and what could have possibly have happened to her. "Why do you think Tarj never tried to contact us?"

"Don't start that," Dusty warned sitting up straight now. "Skirata and these brothers of ours told you that the communications got changed abruptly and without warning."

Jas looked up again, meeting Dusty's gaze. "You know what I meant."

At that Dusty, pointed an accusing finger at Jas. "I said don't start that. I know in my gut he's still watching over her for you. Tarj wouldn't betray you like that, and if you're even considering that something happened to him, just remember that he had the unfortunate luck of growing up with us. He's smart, clever, and very twisted mentally. You need to stop torturing yourself. _Les'ika_ is as safe as if you were right there with her."

Running his hand through his lengthening hair, Jas breathed out a heavy sigh. He knew Dusty was right, and he knew in his own gut that Tarj wouldn't cross any lines with _Les'ika_. Jas was just so knotted up sometimes about having not seen her for so long that his own thoughts occasionally got away from him, and it was all he could do to keep his sanity.

Softly, Jas breathed, "It's been over eight months, _ner vod_."

"I know," Dusty answered quietly, sympathizing for his brother's broken heart. He didn't want to admit it, but just as _Les'ika_ lingered in Jas' heart, Cerina was always lingering in his thoughts. Jas at least had the fortunate luck that _Les'ika_ was able to communicate with him and share her life with him, even if it was through distant letters. Dusty could remember every time that Jas got a message from _Les'ika_ how his brother's face would light up with the most pathetic grin, and how he would take the first opportunity he had to quickly type a message on the comlink back to her.

Dusty also saw how their messages were consistent, equally being sent and received. Sometimes, Jas would even share some of _Les'ika's_ letters with them, especially if she wanted to know how the rest of Crimson was doing and when it would be okay for her to send a package to them. They had very little downtime to receive packages, but occasionally they would remain on leave long enough for one to arrive at their bunker on Coruscant. They could always tell it was from _Les'ika_, not only because it was loaded with RubyFruit and always contained a handwritten note wishing them well, but also because she was the only one who sent them anything. The other squads rarely received any kind of gifts offering comfort or gratitude, but Crimson had received a few such packages in the eight months after they left Tochin.

Dusty could remember watching the jealousy that some of the other squads exhibited for them whenever one of those packages arrived. Crimson's acceptance in the civilian world had seemed to further reject them from the clones in the GAR, but Crimson was so accustomed to being on their own that it didn't affect them. They happily took the offered gifts from Tochin, sharing the RubyFruit and other delicacies amongst themselves.

Bringing his thoughts away from a past that was bittersweet in a joy that will never be replicated, Dusty wondered if he would have an ounce of the fortitude that Jas carried. He saw how his brother was determined to do whatever it would take to find _Les'ika_ again. Jas knew his life was short and the longer he was denied getting to her, the older he was getting, and Dusty could see it was one of the many reasons why Jas was so on edge over her absence.

Allowing his own thoughts to linger, Dusty knew that he would never admit it, but his seeming lack of interest in Cerina was merely because he was frightened to be rejected by her. The past year had done nothing but remind him about a chance in his life he would never have again. The woman he had known for one night had unknowingly left a mark upon him, a blemish that made him forever hesitant about any woman's intentions. He was beginning to doubt he'd ever find someone like _Les'ika_, a woman whose kindness and compassion crossed the distant galaxy to touch the man she loved.

Shaking the insanity of the thought away, Dusty came to the conclusion that if everything went well with getting Jas and _Les'ika_ together, he was going to return to Denon. Dusty wasn't entirely certain that Cerina was the right woman for him, but other than _Les'ika_, Cerina was the only woman who had done something kind for him while he was still a soldier in the GAR. Maybe he owed her the kindness of checking in and making certain that she had remained safe in a galaxy that had quickly turned into a dangerous place to exist.

Ordo and Kal Skirata suddenly entered the gathering room, pulling Jas and Dusty from their silent ruminations. The former Null and the training sergeant each took seats around the low table in the center of the room.

Jas instinctively straightened his posture, an old habit from Kamino as muscle memory took over, nearly forcing him to salute Skirata once again. He realized now that it was going to be hard to stop certain ingrained movements, especially if he would run into any other former sergeants who would invoke memories of his years in training.

Ordo carried on with his task of setting a datapad on the table while Skirata nestled into the seat that was obviously meant for him. The short sergeant sat up straight but looked comfortable, his eyes shifting between the two former commandos, his face revealing nothing about what they had found in their research on Tochin.

Ordo turned on the datapad so that it brought up images and text in a holo-projection above the tabletop.

"The Imperials have pretty much taken over Tochin," Ordo started. "We've got information that a young moff named Gillard Harkin is in charge now, having all but disbanded the monarchy."

"What does that mean?" Jas asked, fearing the worst for _Les'ika_.

"It means he did a clean sweep of the royalty," Skirata explained. "There was supposed evidence that members of the royal establishment were planning to overthrow the Imperial involvement."

Jas leaned back against the wall, feeling his face go pale and rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. "So, she's dead, too?"

"Not yet," Ordo offered. "There were a few royals who had kept to themselves, avoiding the politics of the Imperial invasion. We found some Imperial propaganda, holo-recordings that they released about a week ago showing the expected punishment for traitors to the Imperial cause."

Touching a key on the datapad, Ordo said nothing as an image filled the area above the table. Approximately fifteen people, a combination of male and female humans were standing in the vast courtyard at the palace on Tochin. They were placed in an execution line, surrounded by masked stormtroopers. A small stage had been set behind the prisoners where a man no older than thirty-five stood. Jas presumed that this man was the moff, and he took a few moments to silently assess him. The blonde politician was accustomed to wealth and privilege from what Jas could see. Just the high quality material that was used for the gray suit and boots he wore spoke volumes for his familiarity with credits. Harkin also spoke with the refinement that Jas remembered hearing in Duchess Janelle's voice, and the moff's eyes could capture his audience, portraying to them a sense of concern. Jas briefly wondered just how much of this man's intentions were truly honest and how much was manipulation to be certain that the Empire expanded the way Emperor Palpatine wanted.

Studying the rest of the scene now, Jas saw how Moff Harkin had a small entourage of stormtroopers and well-dressed royals within his close company. At first, he didn't see King Vollan or Duchess Janelle in Harkin's entourage, but he saw _Les'ika_.

Everything at that moment suddenly stopped, and Jas absorbed the sight of her. Physically, she had changed very little, but her eyes held a lifetime of pain in them. She seemed to shrink in behind a masked stormtrooper, the only one who bore green markings on his armor. The green lines on this new armor were less pronounced now, and the _kama_ had been removed, but Jas swallowed hard as he saw the way _Les'ika_ grasped Tarj's arm. Studying her posture, her eyes, and her grasp, Jas came to realize that she wasn't holding him like a woman who was in love with him, but with fear as though begging him to stop what was about to happen.

Bringing his eyes back to the line of prisoners, Jas now recognized the king and duchess mixed in amongst them. He also saw three cloned men standing with the prisoners. He wasn't certain if that meant the cloned men were deserters like he and Dusty or if they were part of the supposed conspiracy to usurp the moff.

Jas stared at the images, having blocked out the elaborate speech the moff was giving to the people about the new regime of the Empire and how loyalty would be rewarded. Jas caught the moff's sweeping arm as his gesture took in the seeming loyal crowd near him while he explained how they had accepted the change of their world. However, Jas' attention was instantly back on _Les'ika_, seeing the sickened fear in her eyes while she stared at the line of prisoners before her.

"What have they done to her?" Jas asked looking away from the holo-image. He knew that after the moff had been done making his speech that the prisoners had been executed. He didn't need to see it happen, and he didn't want to see the affect it would have on _Les'ika_. He could just imagine the pain she had felt for the loss of her father. Jas had been a witness once to the special regard _Les'ika_ and her father held for each other. The day they brought her home, _Les'ika_ and Vollan shared an embrace that had been so emotional and real, and neither one masked the combination of relief and joy they both felt. Jas remembered how Vollan had cried with relief for his daughter's safe return, how his arms wrapped around her, afraid to let her go again. Whatever hellish nightmare Vollan had lived in that week while _Les'ika_ was missing, it was finally over the moment he put his arms around the daughter he cherished above everything.

Ordo saw the agony in Jas' eyes while he was staring into some deep abyss, afraid to watch the events that would happen on the projector's recording. Taking the hint and sparing Jas that kind of pain to watch his girl shatter with grief, Ordo shut down the projector. He offered what words of hope he could, knowing that Jas had to be torn apart inside to see that the location he had dreamed about becoming his home for so long was no longer safe.

"As far as we know," Ordo said softly, breaking the silent tension, "she's been staying below the radar. Nothing has been broadcasted about her."

Jas nodded quietly, satisfied with that. "And, Tarj?"

"He, too, has remained secluded."

Dusty sat up straight again and brought his eyes to Jas. "Tarj will be true to his word, _ner vod_. You know that. You couldn't have put _Les'ika_ in better hands unless you were there yourself. I'm certain Tarj has been staying close to _Les'ika_ and that both of them have been keeping out of the moff's view. They're both good at hiding in plain sight."

Jas took in the room now and all the eyes that were looking upon him. "But, they can't stay there much longer. It's only a matter of time before the moff is going to be forced into a position to take action for one reason or another. I can't hide anymore either, and I have to relieve Tarj of his duty. He's been watching over her for far too long, and I vowed I'd be _Les'ika's_ knight. I feel like I've just about abandoned her, and I need to get on Tochin to show her that I haven't given up on her."

"Son, you're asking to go directly behind Imperial lines for the sake of a girl that has probably forgotten your existence by now," Skirata interjected, trying to be the voice of reason and make this former soldier see the reality that was before him. "Do you really think someone as high ranked as a princess would continue to put her faith into a clone soldier who's been away for eight months?"

"I can show you our messages, if you need that kind of proof," Jas grumbled. "Just because she's a princess, it doesn't mean that she's not also a good woman," Jas said, shock obvious on his face that someone would dare try to convince him differently about _Les'ika_.

Skirata leaned forward, honest sympathy exuding from his voice. "You saw the way she clung to that soldier, the one you said was Tarj. You'd be blind not to see…"

"I forced Tarj to swear to me that he'd protect her," Jas said, interrupting the older man. "_Les'ika_ was not holding Tarj the way you want me to believe she was. She's scared, and she knows that Tarj will keep her safe. They only have each other until I can get there and get them free."

Skirata sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He decided to try a different tactic. "Think about it. This girl of yours is a princess, a celebrity of sorts. If we go in there and pull her off her home world, we're going to bring in more Imperial attention to Mandalore than we are prepared to deal with. Once she's in your possession, you won't be able to run from the Imperials forever, and eventually they will find you. Hiding here with her can only be temporary, and she's certainly not prepared to live nomadically throughout the galaxy."

Jas clenched his fists and turned from the group in anger. For as much as he didn't want to admit it, he had regretfully seen some spark of truth in Skirata's argument. _Les'ika_ had been sheltered her entire life, and the existence she would have with Jas would be far from the quiet safety she had always known. However, Jas knew that _Les'ika_ was capable of being brave and strong. He was there the day that they had stopped Zech and Gunna from plotting King Vollan's destruction. As the princess held his blaster pistol aimed at the woods around her, he saw the determination in her eyes that she was not going to go down without a decent fight. _Les'ika_ just needed someone to be her support. Jas had done that for her once before, during their days in the Tochin forest, and he was certain he could continue to be her foundation once they were together.

Turning back to the others, Jas breathed deeply. "She has the right to choose the life she wants to live, and I'm going to give her that choice. I'm in love with her, and I know she still feels the same for me. Gath died so I could be with her. I'm not going to allow Gath's sacrifice to be in vain."

"_Shab_, you're being a _di'kut_," Skirata said, raising his voice slightly, hoping he could get this poor kid to understand the risks he was about to take. "This girl can't possibly be worth putting you, Mandalore, this clan, and everything else between here and there at risk."

Feeling his body stiffen with anger, Jas was not blind to how the truth had passed over Skirata's eyes. He saw that this man would do anything to protect his clan, and especially his sons, but Jas wasn't part of his network on Kamino or his clan here on Mandalore. Jas was never anything more than a member of a squad of rejects that nobody wanted and _Ba'vodu Gan_ had been stuck with. Running his hand through his hair, Jas took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

Jas looked to Kal Skirata and spoke softly. "No offense to you, but I'm not one of you, and I never will be. I'm the Reject Squad."

"You don't have to be a reject, not anymore," Skirata offered quietly.

"Yes, I do," Jas said with determination in his voice. He moved towards the door and looked back once to both Dusty and Ordo and then his eyes lingered with regret for a moment on the training sergeant he had known only through reputation. "You won't have to worry about me compromising your family. I'll go alone. I've broken rules my whole life, and if a clone being with a princess is another rule to break, then I know I'm doing the right thing."

Moving out the door, Jas exited the Skirata house and returned to the bench where he had started earlier in the morning. The sun had risen and was now about at the halfway point across the sky. Early afternoon was beginning to settle in, and it seemed like yet another day was wasted while he was stranded away from _Les'ika_. Jas knew that he needed to be getting into town to find a ship, or even a pilot who would be willing to drop him off on Tochin. He'd figure out what to do after he got there, but for now he just needed to get off Mandalore.

"Hey, I'm in," Dusty said.

Jas didn't realize that his brother had followed him, but he didn't interrupt Dusty as he continued talking.

"You belong with her, _ner vod_. They can remain here in their secluded little existence, hiding from the Empire if that's what they want, but _Les'ika_ doesn't have that luxury. She's pinned down in that palace with only Tarj as her buffer. You and I could both see that, just by the way she was using him as a shield. You were insane enough to get attached to her and even more crazy to vow yourself as her knight. We both know that it's long overdue for you to take on that responsibility."

Jas smiled, nothing but a faint tug at the corners of his lips, but it was a smile nonetheless. Dusty never failed to support him, even when they had their tiffs with each other. "Thanks, _ner vod_."

"Look, we're going to get you some decent tech and a respectable amount of credits," Ordo offered as appeared out of the doorway to the house and joined the two of them. "My Null brothers are working on revamping a freighter that we had recently…acquired. They're also in the process of giving it a new identity."

"You don't have to do this," Jas told him softly. "I shouldn't have expected much, and I don't want you in trouble for the likes of me. I'm pretty certain that if _Les'ika_ was just a normal girl it would have made a difference. Your _buir_ doesn't seem to like many people, and I don't think he's crazy about us rejects."

"_Kal'buir's_ just jumpy," Ordo explained, trying to equally defend his father and appease his brothers' sense of rejection. "It's been hard trying to keep the pathway open for others while trying to weed out those who would threaten our quiet existence. It's getting harder to keep our location quiet, and there's too many secrets we have going through this place. With that said, I shouldn't have to tell you that you'll be solely on your own once you leave. I've been called to a mission to retrieve some others who have need of our sanctuary."

"You don't need to explain, _ner vod_," Jas replied to Ordo. "There's too many of us scattered out there trying to get somewhere safe. Me, I just know where my obligation lies, and it's to _Les'ika_. I chose this path as a free man, not as an enslaved soldier to the Emperor."

Ordo nodded quietly and then brought forth a small holo-chip. "There's one other thing we have for you. This is from _Kal'buir_. He said he was holding onto it for a while and that he was going to give it to you at the end of our meeting, but you stormed off so quickly, he didn't get a chance to give it to you. He said that you should both view it together, whenever you're ready."

Dusty raised his eyebrow in curiosity. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Ordo admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "_Kal'buir_ said it was a message for the two of you only."

Dusty took the small device from Ordo and watched him quietly return inside the house. Then, he looked down to the holo-recorder in his hand. There was nothing special about it, as it was standard issue from what they had seen on Kamino.

"Maybe the Kaminoans had one last complaint about us that they couldn't keep to themselves," Dusty said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Turn it on," Jas insisted. "Neither of us ever liked suspense."

Dusty touched the small button and the projector came to life. An image of an older man appeared, his body seeming weak and frail. He was bedridden, eyes sunken and limbs so thin they looked like they would break just by moving them.

"Fierfek," Dusty breathed. "That's _Ba'vodu Gan_."

Silence fell over the two brothers as they watched this shadow of a man, and neither clone was able to believe that he was the same person who had trained them to become soldiers. Gan Pohin was far from the physically fit sergeant who had been assigned to the "reject" squad. His eyes blinked tiredly, and his smile was all that gave any indication he wasn't just a corpse. There was that familiar crooked smirk on the man's face, the smirk that exaggerated the scar on his cheek to make it seem deeper than it really was.

Laughing quickly for a moment to himself, Gan Pohin then began speaking. His voice was far from commanding now. It was as tired and weak sounding as the rest of his body looked. "Well then, if any of you delinquent boys are watching this then it means that at least one of you survived. Wasn't sure that the war would have kept any of you alive. It was nothing but methodical nonsense from my perspective…"

A heavy, wet cough wracked the old sergeant suddenly, and he wheezed for a moment, trying to compose himself and gain his breath back. After a moment, he continued on explaining about his illness and how it struck just as the war was beginning. He briefly described the last couple months of his life, how he was forced to take pain medicines just to get through the days as he tried in vain to find information on his former sister-in-law and the child she was once carrying.

Gan paused as though collecting his thoughts again and released another miserable-sounding cough. "I guess what I'm trying to say is: don't live with regrets. If you find a way to get yourselves free, you take it. If you meet a girl and things go well, don't hesitate. Your lives aren't long enough to have time for mistakes. You have to do it right the first time, and even though I don't agree with the unfairness of what you were given, I wish I had followed some of that advice for myself. That's really all I wanted to say. Things I should have said the day you left, but I…well, I was afraid that I wouldn't hold up right. I think I did pretty well for a bunch of rejects, and even with those who weren't so bad off like that kid Tarj, I just wasn't prepared to know you'd all be marching directly into crossfires. Anyway, I've become a crazy, babbling sick man. I wish I'd just hurry up and die already. Stubborn _Mando_ body."

At that, Gan laughed with that wicked, broken wheeze, and he went into another coughing fit. When he was done, he simply said "_Ret'urcye mhi_." It was the equivalent to goodbye and that he hoped they would meet again one day.

The transmission shut down, and the two men just stared blankly at the place where the hologram had been.

After a very long, silent moment, Dusty looked to Jas and spoke quietly. "_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, Ba'vodu Gan_."

Jas blinked for a moment as Dusty's words absorbed into him, and the memories of Gan flashed in his mind. He thought about how quickly their training sergeant – their uncle – had just deteriorated and how the man who was full of spunk lived the last months of his life crippled and sick. Jas shook his head, more determined than ever to be with _Les'ika_. "I'm not going to live with regrets."

"Neither am I," Dusty replied as his thoughts suddenly switched over to Cerina Browlin. He had to fight that nagging curiosity about finding her for just a while longer, and right now he needed to concentrate his efforts on how to infiltrate the Imperial-ruled world of Tochin.


	23. Chapter 22

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again for the interest! I had debated for a while about Gillard Harkin and how to portray him. He showed me he's much more complex than a common villain, and I have to admit that I had a lot of fun writing this chapter.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 22**

_Tarj has exhibited nothing but honest loyalty to the princess. I can see that governments mean nothing to him, only his need to keep her safe. There is almost something deeper in his devotion than merely following orders, but I can't quite grasp it, and I'm certain he would deny anything if I tried asking. He's quite taken with the girl – not romantically – but his connection with her is as true as if they were siblings. I have no doubt that his protection of her does not need to be questioned, and the princess will never be under threat while in his care. Tarj must remain her guardian simply because there is no one else who can be trusted to serve her with that kind of sincere respect and devotion.  
_Moff Gillard Harkin, sharing his observations with one of his advisors

**73 Days after Order 66  
****Tochin Moon III**

Arlesse looked up to the overcast sky of the afternoon, expecting the next round of rain to begin any moment. The past two days had brought nothing but gray clouds and intermittent periods of showers. A thunderstorm had rolled through the palace just after dawn, and it had awakened her from her restless sleep, rescuing her from her nightmare of Jas' execution.

Arlesse had hoped that the nightmare wasn't some kind of premonition, but she had begun to fear more for Tarj and herself. As she suspected, the noblemen and women who had accepted Moff Gillard Harkin as their new leader were offered advisory roles in the hierarchy. They were given insignificant assignments, tasks that seemed to give the Empire more means to watch over them than if they had simply just given up their titles to live quietly and unnoticed.

Even though Harkin had made the palace his home, he had kept his distance from Arlesse since the executions that had taken place just over a week ago. He had offered his sympathies for the loss of her family after they were cremated, and he further promised her that he would talk with her in a couple days, after the minor upheavals on Tochin were subdued. The moff explained that there would be many fires to control with the loss of so many respected leaders, but he would not leave her forgotten without any direction for her future.

Arlesse had likewise kept her distance from Gillard Harkin, allowing Tarj to shield her whenever she saw him in passing. She could not see the moff as anything but the man who murdered her family and stole her dreams.

Sitting on an outside bench in the little alcove off the main ballroom balcony, Arlesse had hoped no one would find her here. She had been doing all she could to keep clear of the stormtroopers, and she found their lack of personality more disturbing than protective. She even found their helmets less friendly than the Mandalorian-inspired helmets that the cloned men from the war used to wear.

Arlesse knew she had only one true friend now as Tarj continued to remain loyal to her. He had explained that Harkin ordered him to do so, to be certain she remained safe, especially with the disturbances that had come about on Tochin after the executions. Even though Arlesse was sheltered and sometimes naïve, she knew that Harkin was using Tarj to be his eyes and ears on her life, to learn who she talked with and how she spent her days. However, Arlesse trusted Tarj to be selective on what he reported, and she knew that Tarj would never reveal anything that would compromise her. She understood that Tarj's loyalty had been to Jas, and when he promised his brother that he would protect her, she had no doubt that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

Arlesse turned her head towards the balcony doors, growing concerned with Tarj's absence. He had been summoned by Harkin a few minutes ago, and they had walked out of earshot from her. Arlesse took the hint and knew that whatever they were discussing, it was not meant for her to hear.

The distant sound of men shouting caught her attention, and she wondered if there was a fight occurring in the courtyard below. She stood and moved towards the railing to see a legion of stormtroopers who were practicing their defensive and offensive skills.

Arlesse took notice to how their white armor was different from the gray plating she remembered Jas wearing. Instinctively, her hand came to hold the star pendant of her necklace, her fingers touching upon the locket that held both her mother's holo and Jas' gift to her. The princess closed her eyes and took a worried breath, thinking of the small, violet shell within the locket, the tiny bauble that Jas had plucked from a remote cavern wall and given to her before he departed her world.

She felt her stomach plummet again as the reality that they would never communicate washed over her once more. The comlink that she often used to keep in touch with Jas had become nothing but a storage device for her old messages. Her fingers trembled with anger and regret that Harkin had tampered with the comlink Mouse had given her, removing the components that allowed her to send and receive updates on Jas' life.

As her eyes passed over the stormtroopers, she wondered how many messages Jas had tried to send since that day when the device was rendered inactive. She worried again that he had given up on her, thinking she was not willing to wait for him any longer.

"I'm sorry about my absence as of late," a voice offered from behind Arlesse.

She felt her breath catch in fear when she recognized that it wasn't Tarj, and Moff Gillard Harkin was the last person she wanted to have in her presence. Arlesse decided to keep her silence, as it would not give Harkin any information for whatever he was seeking from her.

"I promised you that I would make time to talk, and as a man of honor, I am here to fulfill my obligation."

Arlesse refused to face the moff, and she kept her eyes on the dark skies above the courtyard. She wanted to say that he knew nothing about honor but decided instead to keep her silence. She didn't trust Moff Harkin, and so far he had given her no reason to do so. In his short time on Tochin, he had taken it upon himself to interrogate the royal population and decide on his own as to who would live or die. Arlesse knew that her father and Janelle had done nothing but try to stand up for their people's rights, and Harkin had arranged their executions. He also purposefully ended the honest relationship she shared with a cloned soldier. Now, Arlesse couldn't help but fear that the talk he wanted to have with her would be more about enacting a different kind of justice on her, trying to find a suitable punishment simply because she had born a princess to a traitorous father.

Refusing to take her hand from the pendant, Arlesse decided not to make any comments and to just wait until she had an opportunity to leave his presence. She had more than enough hiding places throughout the palace from all the times that she needed to disappear while the royals in the Tochin court weren't interested in her presence.

Gillard stepped closer to the princess, aware of the stiffness in her posture as she refused to face him. His eyes glanced at the tightness in her back, the rigid way she held her arms close to her body, and he could see that none of it was because of the sturdy fabric that was used to create her deep violet-colored dress.

Not quite sure how to begin, Gillard watched the way the cool, damp breeze pushed some of her curls across her back, and he noticed that the spirals had grown unruly while she remained in the clammy air. He tried to follow the position of her head to see what she might be looking at when he saw that on the ground below a legion of stormtroopers were continuing with their drills.

Bringing his eyes back from the common sight of the stormtroopers to instead study Arlesse Psach, Gillard had to admit that he found this princess to be quite a mystery. She was quiet and humble, even honest, which he found exceptionally rare. However, beneath that outer layer, he saw raw devotion. He was not blind to see how she had committed her heart at some point to a man whose age accelerated too quickly to be a life-long companion. This princess had found something mutual with a flesh droid, and even though she would never communicate with that man again, Gillard was smart enough to not dismiss the relationship entirely. He could see that this seemingly innocent girl was holding onto some deeply imbedded hope for her clone's return.

Gillard Harkin was rarely exposed to this kind of woman, one who was unquestionably sincere. His previous experiences with women were short relationships that would go nowhere. He seemed to attract women with an inability to commit, and it had molded him into a man who preferred to shuffle through relationships as he wished. However, he would never discount that some of his companionship problems were due to his parents' lack of commitment to their own.

Gillard had grown up in a wealthy family and was the youngest of four brothers raised mostly by an aging governess who was unable to have children of her own. His parents were contracted by marriage through arrangements in which neither had any choice. His mother's training as an ambassador had made her a necessary pawn for the banking clan's benefit. His father was a high executive of a banking corporation who needed someone by his side who could influence and negotiate contracts in favor of the banking clan. By merging his mother's noble influences with his father's high societal ranking, a match had been made that brought great fortune to the clan. However, with the commitments both his parents required in their employment, neither of them could devote the time to their family that they required. His mother was away more often than not after his birth, and with her absences his father had decided that the way to cope with his wife's diplomatic commitments was by being unfaithful. Gillard could remember at least a dozen different female faces throughout his childhood emerging from his father's bedchamber, none of which were his mother's.

As he got older, Gillard thought he could escape the madness of his parents' revulsion towards each other by attending academies that specialized in politics from the time he was twelve. He had gone into the Senate at age sixteen, while still attending his classes and took an internship role so he could gain experience, seeing the real world of politics from the inside. While he was still young, he had the naïve idea that if he could understand politics, he could find a way to avoid the mistakes his mother had made with her absences. After mere months on his internship, he realized what he hoped to achieve would never happen and he abandoned that idea, opting to just establish his own career instead.

Now, a thirty-four year old man, Gillard was one of the youngest moffs assigned throughout the galaxy. His dirty-blonde hair and hazel eyes were set on a boyish face that almost contradicted the driven man beneath that exterior. Prior to this assignment, Gillard had earned many a senator's recommendation, and it was agreed upon by Emperor Palpatine to give him experience on this backwater world. He had to prove himself as more than a leader, and he took the requests from Palpatine very seriously. He knew he was not safe from the Emperor's wrath while on Tochin, but uncovering a conspiracy against the Empire had given Palpatine enough proof that Gillard could be removed from his leash and permitted take control on Tochin as he saw fit. There was one demand from Palpatine that Gillard was certain to follow and that was to ensure the tolium being mined would find no other market than the Imperial Navy.

Delving out of his ruminations, Gillard again studied this sheltered princess and was reminded of the naïve boy he once was. Moving towards her, Gillard stood next to Arlesse Psach on the balcony and brought his attention to her.

Arlesse breathed quietly, refusing to make eye contact with him. Without any prompting, she turned towards the door in an attempt to escape his presence.

Gillard reached out, and his hand caught her arm, just above the elbow.

Arlesse felt her heart thudding in her chest in fear, and her breath got stuck in her throat.

Gillard was careful to make certain he wasn't forceful but gentle with his hold on her. He knew he could get her to respond better with a kind touch as opposed to the brute force that would be expected by someone of his power and influence.

"Please, Highness, stay," he said carefully. "You haven't provided me any opportunity yet to explain my actions since I had arrived on your humble world."

Arlesse yanked her arm free, surprised that Harkin had so easily relented his touch on her. She wanted to convey the kind of strength in her voice that Janelle used to exhibit, but Arlesse couldn't project that kind of emotion, and she ended up sounding more like she was scared and sad than angry. "You killed my family and took over our world. I have no reason to want your company."

Gillard met her gaze with his own, watching the pain in her blue eyes consume her. It was like staring into a maelstrom of hatred and grief, and he swore that he was looking at the debris left after a violent storm had destroyed everything in its path. Yet, even with that shield of pain, he could see the very real fear in her eyes, the constant worry she had about what would become of her. Her brutal honesty always seemed to take him off-guard, and he needed to carefully choose his words, to gently work up to the proposition he needed to offer her.

"You are right, Princess," he started softly, "I came into your world as a conqueror, and that was not my intention. I was given specific orders to follow, expectations of what was required in my position. Please, all I ask is that you sit with me and let me explain."

"Where's Tarj?" Arlesse asked, changing the subject. She didn't want to hear any explanations from this murderer, and the fear she constantly felt for her guardian's life had filled her thoughts, distracting her.

The princess' question had taken Gillard unexpectedly, but he saw the slight crack of compassion in her gaze. He saw that she cared about her clone protector, and he could clearly see the sibling relationship that they shared. He understood why she asked about Tarj; she feared something had happened to him.

"He's fine," Gillard admitted. "I see the way he protects you, and I know I can order no one else to have that kind of loyalty. Unless he betrays the Empire, there is no reason to eliminate him. I had simply asked him for some time to talk with you privately, and he accommodated my wishes."

Suddenly, an explosion of blaster fire erupted in the courtyard below. The noise startled Arlesse, and she spun towards the ledge of the balcony as her instinctive curiosity for the noise had overridden her need to run from the moff.

"It's a salute to the Empire," Gillard explained, seizing the opportunity to find something to discuss with her and prolong their time together. "It's an exercise done in precise timing. Only squads that have reached a mastery level in their synchronization skills can accomplish the unique sound that you just heard."

Arlesse turned away from the courtyard and from the moff now. Jas had told her some of his training experiences back on Kamino, but he never described anything like the seemingly useless drills these stormtroopers practiced. Then again, she had to remind herself that Jas was trained differently, not only because of his Mandalorian influence, but because he was far from an enlisted soldier. Jas was special operations, part of an undercover unit that handled missions others would consider impossible or too far-fetched to waste time attempting.

Gillard saw that he was losing the princess' attention, and he had to act quickly if he didn't want this conversation to be enforced in other ways. He wanted her cooperation and her understanding, but he could see that Arlesse Psach was very well rehearsed at making quiet exits. Taking a risk, Gillard slid in front of her and blocked the door. Before she could protest, he quickly began talking in that calm but careful manner, trying to keep her fear of him subdued.

"I am sorry about your father and your cousin, truly I am. But, you must understand that they had a network already established to work against the Empire. I was barely here for a couple weeks when I found documentation regarding missing funds that no one could account for in the treasury. I had that monetary amount traced back, and it led me to a trail of revolution. They had plotted with outside mercenaries, creating a small army that they believed would have removed not only me, but also the Imperial influence that had come to your world. I was left with no choice but to follow the entire trail and interrogate not only those involved, but anyone who might potentially be involved. Your family ties had forced me to have to question you."

Arlesse saw something she had not seen before in this moff's eyes, something she didn't believe he was capable of demonstrating. She saw a flash of truth as he explained to her the conspiracy that had destroyed the life she once knew. Something about his honesty struck her oddly, and she felt her fingers instantly graze over her pendant, trying desperately to feel for the shell that was locked inside the star that rested against her chest bone.

Realizing that Moff Harkin was making no attempt to move from the doorway, Arlesse conceded to defeat for now and returned to the bench upon the balcony. She kept her back to him and felt her eyes look to the stone floor, trying to imagine her father plotting some kind of revolution. She never knew him to be one who sought war, but as she thought further on the events of the last few weeks, she realized that he had quite a number of discussions with some of the clone troopers that were left behind with Tarj, and he had started distancing himself from her. Any time her father spent with her had been quick and in the open. He no longer lingered with her in the garden, talking about things like he once did, and he avoided private conversations with her as though he needed to keep their idle conversations on display for everyone.

Staring blindly at one of the discolored sections of stone on the floor, Arlesse finally understood that her father had been protecting her from the conspiracy, trying to make it obvious to the Imperials that his daughter was innocent of the crimes he was plotting to commit.

Gillard moved towards the princess and dared to take a seat next to her on the bench. He saw the way her eyes concentrated on something while her brows were knitted in comprehension.

"Your father swore until his dying breath that you were never involved and that you knew nothing," the moff said gently. "And, I'm sorry that I was forced to interrogate you. Unfortunately, I had no choice but to question innocent people, such as yourself, in order to protect the Empire's interests."

Arlesse folded her hands in her lap, still refusing to look at Moff Harkin. "You didn't even know Papa or the good things about him. He didn't rely on others to take care of me. He took responsibility for raising me and arranged most of his meetings in the palace so that he would be able to care for me as needed. He always made time for me, even for simple things like reading me stories every night during my childhood. He made me laugh when I was sad and he rightfully punished me when I tested limits."

Arlesse closed her eyes and swallowed hard to give her the strength she needed to bring her eyes to Harkin. Feeling the emotion in her, she opened her eyes and brought her hardened stare to the moff's hazel eyes. "He was my father, and he loved me the way a parent is supposed to love a child. You took that away from me."

Gillard felt burned by her gaze, how she had the childhood he could only imagine having. Jealously flashed through him for this princess, this woman who had everything he didn't. Even though he was raised to have access to finances and influence, she had love and compassion. A part of him was wondering if he had acted impulsively, having her father killed simply because of his jealously over what he had been denied in his life.

Then, he reminded himself about the conspiracy, the trail of truth that led him to a potential revolution against the Empire. Palpatine would have done unimaginable destruction to Tochin if Gillard hadn't taken the actions he had before things got out of control.

"Your family had done this to themselves, and the measures Emperor Palpatine would have taken would have ended with far worse damage to your world. I spared you and your people that kind of fate," he told her firmly, daring to put one of his hands upon hers. He felt the princess flinch under his touch, but he was determined to start mending the rift that was between them. He would need her, and even if she had limited influence on the Tochinite people, she was still a symbol to them. "You didn't receive any punishment because you have taken no actions to hinder the Empire's progress. The Empire does not punish without reason, and I want you to understand that."

Arlesse startled at his touch and quickly pulled her hands free, surprised that Harkin conceded to her resistance. She looked to him and couldn't hide the relief that she knew was in her eyes. However, it quickly passed as she again felt the resentment and anger return for this man who had murdered her family and stranded her from Jas.

"You took everything away from me," she said softly, fighting the ache in her chest, "And I had done nothing wrong."

"Again, I can only emphasize that Emperor Palpatine would have done far worse…"

"I don't see how when you've done it all for him," Arlesse interrupted sadly, feeling one of those stinging tears slipping down her cheek. She stood from the bench, unable to handle remaining in Moff Harkin's presence. She wanted to find one of her hidden places and disappear so she could mourn again for her father, Janelle, and Jas.

Gillard realized suddenly that he was losing her attention, and he saw the way she could erect her mental barriers around her so quickly. He wondered what could cause a sheltered and pampered girl to build such resilience. He certainly did not expect Arlesse Psach to be quite so strong, and especially not in her unique, passive way.

Taking the princess' hand in his, Gillard stood before her, again blocking her exit. Gently and softly he spoke before she could protest. "Please don't leave."

Arlesse breathed heavily, trying not to break apart and become the crumbling mess of emotions that was always below the surface. Wiping her cheek with her sleeve, she removed the single tear that had fallen free earlier and was determined not to allow any more right now. She knew Tarj was just a shout away, but she was not going to play that card unless it really mattered. Harkin was not forcing himself on her, at least not in any way that was physically threatening or dangerous to her safety. She knew he was a politician, and this was the kind of games he was accustomed to playing. Janelle would have easily played it back, but Arlesse was far from the enchantress that Janelle had been, and she just wanted to be alone to be with her memories of what no longer existed.

Gathering her strength finally, Arlesse swallowed hard and found her voice again. Even though her words were shaky, she needed simple answers, easy explanations that didn't elaborate into fancy speeches. "What do you want from me?"

Gillard took her hand tighter, grateful that the conversation had finally turned to where he needed it. Regardless of what her status had been on this world and how she was able to hide behind others, the time had come for this princess to take a less veiled position in her society. However, the thought of telling her that had released a nagging bite of nervousness that clung to the back of his mind.

Collecting his thoughts, Gillard decided to ease her into the answer to her inquiry. "My advisors had warned me that questions would eventually arise as to your purpose here, especially since I have not taken any constructive actions yet towards you. They have recommended I take one of two suggestions. The first is to remove you from your high position of status since it outranks mine."

Before Harkin could continue, Arlesse was pulling her hand away and trying to step away from him. She knew what the second suggestion would entail, and she feared hearing those kinds of words from him.

Gillard refused to back down now, knowing what he had to ask of her. He stepped closer and even though he took her hand tighter, he maintained a gentle touch. "Your people need a symbol of their old ways, someone to let them know that they still have something of their past to cling onto. I need you, just as they do."

Arlesse brought her eyes to his now, and she could think of nothing but Jas.

"You and I," he said softly, continuing carefully, "You could stand by my side. Take my offer and be more than a symbol for your people. Together, we can merge your old ways with the new Empire."

Shaking her head, Arlesse prayed he would not ask it of her. She tried to pull free, but Harkin took the opportunity to stop her as he brushed his fingers against her cheek.

"Your clone is gone," the moff said gently, trying to make her see that the romance she had believed she would share with that flesh droid could never be possible. "The galaxy has changed and whatever fantasy you were led to believe simply does not exist."

"No," she said immediately, speaking with her heart rather than her head. It was too hard to hold in her affections for Jas any longer, and Harkin needed to know that she was still committed to another. "I have to wait. By our laws, there must be proof before the engagement can be annulled."

Gillard felt his eyes widen in surprise. He knew she was devoted to that clone, but he never imagined that they had managed to receive the royal clearances that would allow them to get engaged and eventually married. Running his thumb over her cheek, Gillard breathed softly, reminding her that Tochin had changed now. "I'm sorry, Highness, but your laws are no longer recognized by the Empire, and proof is not needed for an engagement that doesn't exist."

The sting of tears filled her eyes, and the tightness in her throat threatened to close off her breathing. The pendant that pressed against her chest suddenly felt cold and foreign, and she instinctively reached her free hand to the star to be certain Jas was still with her. She tried to breathe, but it only brought with it pain in her chest, the ache of further losing Jas to the abyss of the galaxy. Gillard Harkin had no right to erase the relationship that was promised to her, the one her father had permitted, the one that was true and honest. How could this politician expect her to just forget in a heartbeat the only man she knew loved her?

Gillard took advantage of her weakened moment, realizing that this princess was not entirely unattractive, although her cousin had been far more enticing. He had thought it was a waste to have to execute the beautiful duchess, but her betrayal to the Empire had shown just what kind of woman she had been. Arlesse Psach was so different from Janelle Napith, despite her lack of sophistication and nobility.

Physically, the princess had a facial symmetry that made her unburdening on the eyes, but Gillard was much more interested in the emotional depth he could see in her blue irises. There was more to this girl than what she projected on the surface. He was constantly taken aback by her brutal honesty and was intrigued by the innocence that had built the foundation of her character.

Gillard briefly wondered if he could ever develop true affections for her, the kind he was certain her clone had shared. There was the politician in him that whispered how he truly only needed her for the purposes of a political wife, the royal trophy he required in order to show the people of Tochin that they needed to trust him. Politically, he merely needed to be with her when necessary to produce an heir so that his blood would mix with hers and create a royal child, someone that would seal his permanency to the rank of royalty. Gillard knew that as a moff, he could declare himself king, but the ambitious politician in him argued that with a true blooded queen by his side and a royal child to take his place, he would be more than powerful. He would be legendary.

Then, he looked to her eyes and saw the world in there that she kept locked away from everyone, the world he was certain her clone had visited. He wondered if there was ever any way to convince her that she needed to invite him into that world if he was going to keep her safely hidden from the Empire's minions. Gillard had seen a lot of dishonesty during his time in the Senate, the kinds of schemes and games that he was certain this princess had no inkling existed. Should any of those beings come to Tochin, she would be fodder for their tortures.

Brushing some of her thick, unruly curls from her face, Gillard kept his voice a soft, non-threatening whisper. "Please give me time and learn to trust me. We need each other, and Tochin needs us."

Arlesse took a shaky breath and then tried to pull her face from him. Her heart told her not to trust Harkin, and deep within her she believed Jas was still alive.

Gillard stared at the locked gates of the world in her eyes, and with a soft breath, he told her, "I would be honored if you would be my wife one day."

Arlesse felt the shock register on her face and couldn't move as she felt another tear trace down her cheek. She again thought of Jas and the emotion in his voice, his touch when he promised her he would return, when he told her he would be her knight so that they could be together. Shaking her head now, Arlesse's voice came out broken as though she was in some kind of agony. "I…can't."

Gillard couldn't believe her unshakable faith in that clone, that sub-human being. He saw how the gates in her eyes locked tighter and the way the blind devotion she had for that flesh droid could not be broken. He wanted to know more than ever how a clone could have won over such devotion from a royal monarch, and his words again reiterated the death of her fantasy. "Highness, you must understand that he's dead, and if he isn't, he has a death target on him. He can never return for you."

"I'll wait," Arlesse breathed, feeling more tears in her eyes that she would not allow to fall while she swallowed down the painful lump in her throat. She would not lose her faith in Jas. He was all she had left, and she was prepared to live the rest of her life believing in his return because it was better than admitting he had broken his promise or had died. In her mind, as long as he was unaccounted for with no proof of death, then she still had a reason to hope he was alive and would one day return.

"If you deny this proposal, I won't be able to protect you," Gillard told her, wondering why he was fighting so hard for her cooperation. It would take less than a day to strip her of her birthright and send her on her way, yet he could not stop trying to convince her otherwise. "Is that really what you want? I'm offering you a chance for a comfortable existence, to remain in the life you've always known."

Arlesse closed her eyes and held in the sobbing tears that threatened to come as she came to realize that this was the punishment Gillard Harkin had devised for her, the punishment for having been related to what the Empire deemed as traitors. He had decided that she had to give up Jas in order to live safely and protected in this new Empire.

Arlesse's eyes suddenly opened as she felt Harkin's hands cup her cheeks gently. She felt like she was watching from outside her body, her heart still roaming the Tochin forests with Jas and Crimson.

"I understand it's a difficult decision," Gillard offered with gentle reassurance. "You loved someone who's gone, and now a complete stranger is willing to share his life with you. If nothing else, consider your people. They will need to depend on your presence as a symbol of everything they had always known, and I want you to remain in a life where you will be cared for and safe."

Arlesse closed her eyes once again, wishing the conversation were over, silently begging him to let her go. Harkin was not Jas and no one would ever be comparable to him. She felt her hands trembling with anger and sadness, the maelstrom of emotions pulling her into some deep undercurrent where she just wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. Warm air passed over her lips, and Arlesse dragged to the surface the strength that was deep in her, the strength that Jas taught her she had. She opened her eyes and found certainty filled her voice as she uttered one word. "Don't."

Gillard suddenly pulled back from the princess and felt his hands quickly fall away, forgetting about the attempt he was about to make. He saw the challenge that laid before him now. Princess Arlesse Psach was loyal and ceaselessly devoted to a cloned soldier, and her belief in her clone left no room for anyone else in her life. Gillard, however, was drawn to challenges, and he was now determined to win her over. He could see that if he earned her affections honestly, she would remain devoted to him.

Letting her think she won this battle, Gillard turned from her towards the door and disappeared back inside the palace. He would report to his advisors that Arlesse Psach had taken the proposition to become his companion and then he would convince her that she had no other choice.

Arlesse folded down onto the cold, stone floor of the balcony and breathed heavily after Harkin had disappeared. She had never been so bold in her life before, especially not with someone as powerful as the moff. Her insides were churning, causing her to feel dizzy and sick. She was regretting her decision to stand up to Harkin and had considered if she should apologize for her actions, but the idea passed quickly as she thought about Jas and the devotion that had been in his eyes for her the day he left.

Feeling her fingers seek out the star around her neck, Arlesse found comfort again in the knowledge that a part of Jas was still with her. Even though Tarj was to protect her in his absence, she took solace in fact that she always carried that small remnant of Jas.

Footsteps caught her attention and Arlesse brought her eyes up to the white armor with the thin green stripes. His helmet was tucked neatly beneath a crooked arm, and water dripped down his face, falling off the armor to pool onto the floor before him.

Arlesse then realized that her own hair was growing heavy with water, and her dress had developed a wet chill.

"_Vod'ika_, you've been out in the rain for ten minutes," Tarj told her, catching something small in her hands. "Are you okay?"

Arlesse let her eyes drop down now to the violet shell that she had freed from its hiding place in her pendant. Ignoring the rain and the chill that it gave her body, she told Tarj, "Your brother gave me this when we got engaged, and I gave him a lock of my hair."

Tarj clipped his helmet to his belt and moved closer to the princess. He knelt onto the ground before her and looked closely at the small token she treasured. He could see that even in its miniscule size, it held an entire world for her. He brought his eyes to the girl who was his adopted sister and watched as she bit her bottom lip as though trying to think of the right words.

"Harkin wants to marry me," Arlesse finally said.

"I know," Tarj told her softly.

Bringing her eyes to Tarj's dark irises, she studied this rain-soaked cloned man. He looked every bit like Jas at a quick glance, but their personalities and facial expressions were so different. The light in Jas' eyes when he looked at her was absent from Tarj's. Although this soldier was kind and duty-driven, he saw her as the woman his brother had chosen and he never viewed her as anything beyond being her brother and protector. Occasionally, Arlesse would see the inner mischievous little boy emerge in Tarj, just the same as Jas would do, but even those children who lived within these soldiers were as different as the men who housed them.

"How did you know?" she asked. Then, after a moment, it made sense to her why Harkin talked with Tarj privately without her knowledge.

"I tried to convince him otherwise," Tarj said quietly, noting how the rain seemed to straighten her curls. "I told him that your loyalty to another man will not be easily changed, and his attempt would end in vain."

"I told him I couldn't," Arlesse answered softly as she denied the tears that wanted to cover her cheeks. "But, I know he's going to pursue me anyway."

Tarj breathed heavily in regret and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, trying to think of anything he could possibly do. It seemed more and more that he was doing a lousy job of protecting her, and he wondered if maybe she should just give up on Jas for her own sanity. Tarj could see that the moff would take good care of her as long as she did what was expected and made no attempt to go against the Empire. But, then Tarj was thinking like an order-driven soldier with those kinds of thoughts. The princess was thinking like a civilian who followed her heart, and the emotional attachment she felt for his brother was so strong, so real, that even he wanted to help her find a way off Tochin and seek out Jas.

Using his hands to enclose hers around the violet shell as though protecting it, Tarj looked into her eyes. He lowered his voice softly, a bare whisper. "Stay _kotyc, Vod'ika_. I'll delay Harkin's marriage intentions for you as long as I can. Just try to remember who my brother is and how he was trained. There was talk of a sanctuary for deserters just before the war ended. If he made it there, I know he'll come for you."

Arlesse let her eyes stare deep into Tarj's, and felt a new sense of hope in her heart. She had never heard about a haven for deserters, but Tarj's eyes were full of truth, a certain sign that he knew something he was not permitted to share with anyone.

"You must never speak about this again," he warned her carefully, demanding her silent conviction in return. "Desertion is punishable by death and we must continue to trust each other only."

Arlesse felt a tremble go through her, afraid to think about how she would survive without Tarj. He wasn't Jas and there was nothing romantic between them, but he was her strength and sanity now. When Harkin had her on the brink of a breakdown, Tarj kept her steady and on the path to her devotion.

"Come out of the rain now," he told her playfully, allowing his inner boy to surface for her as he watched her return the shell to her necklace. "It reminds me too much of that kriffing Kamino."


	24. Chapter 23

_Author's Notes_: It's been a long month, and the vacation to Celebration V I had planned for nearly a year has come and gone. It was worth the wait, but as vacations go, they are never long enough. If anyone else had attended CV, I'd love to see what you thought! It was my first convention, and I honestly hope that I'll be able to attend Celebration VI when the time comes.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 23**

_For centuries, the palace guards were responsible for the safety of the royal family. I wasn't too keen on the Republic Army stepping into our territory, but at least they knew their limits. The Empire took away the only employment I've ever had, and now that I've been removed from that honor, I find civilian life is much more complicated than I ever imagined.  
_Chora Wsau, former Tochin palace guard

**82 Days after Order 66  
****Tochin Moon III**

Three days was all the Skirata Nulls needed to supply Jas and Dusty with a ship, tech, new identities, and credits. The two men who were once members of Crimson Squad knew that they had to go in covertly and unrecognizable onto Tochin. It was a known fact now that desertion from the military was a crime punishable by death, and Palpatine was not going to waste resources holding trials for clone deserters. It seemed that an unofficial policy of "shoot on sight" had been instilled for much of the galaxy, and Jas could only assume that Harkin had implemented that policy as well.

Jas and Dusty knew it would have been too suspicious for both of them to go throughout the galaxy and onto Tochin together in _beskar'gam_ so Dusty opted instead to disguise his distinctive dark hair and dark eyed Jango Fett features. He dyed his hair and slipped a pair of contacts into his eyes. Rather than be the blue-eyed blonde he was on Denon for the mission with Cerina Browlin, he now changed his hair to be that orange tint humans referred to as red. Just to make it look even more convincing, he added a couple of gray highlights to the hair by his temples to provide him with what he thought of as an air of sophistication. Dusty had even changed the shade of his eyes with the contacts as his irises no longer reflected the deep brown that was so familiar on every clone, but instead they reflected a much lighter hue that resembled caf with creamer in it. Those small changes alone had transformed Dusty into a man that was not recognizable as a deserted clone. To finalize the character, Ordo and his brothers created an identity for Dusty, where he got to portray a similar persona to the one he had on Denon: he was a real estate mogul, and his current interest was in a certain Tochinite equinine farm that had burned down a number of years ago.

Jas' involvement with this mission required that he be less visual, but it was imperative that he continued to be a part of it. They had decided that it would be best for him not to alter his appearance in the event that he had an opportunity to contact _Les'ika_. Jas had also brought up the additional concern that they had no idea what kind of mental and emotional state she would be in after the death of her family, and altering his appearance might make earning her trust even more difficult when the chance comes for him to make contact with her.

Skirata had even offered a peace branch to Jas by providing him with _beskar'gam_, explaining that the best way to hide in plain sight was to be hidden from plain sight and that the armor would give Jas the advantage of seeing while not being seen.

Jas risked a glance at the color scheme of the Mandalorian armor he was wearing and again marveled at the patchwork of silver and black that had stayed intact for who-knows how many years. He was also aware of the accent stripe of red along the shoulder caps, and the red looked like remnants from a long ago design that signified a clan association. However, it was so badly scratched now, that it appeared more like claw marks than a stripe. Still, the armor fit him well, and Jas had briefly wondered who the previous owner was and what kinds of battles had been fought that had caused the cosmetic scarring on the outer shell.

Looking out the T-visor, Jas was reminded every bit of his old commando _buy'ce_. The helmet he had used in the war was similar to the one he was now provided. The HUD accessed every angle he could imagine, and a smaller HUD screen inside the helmet ran a constant status on whatever topic he chose to view. Right now, he was reading profiles on the small gathering of people that inhabited the nearly deserted pub, and he was currently amazed by the live data feed that the Nulls had been able to provide for him to access. He was even more astounded that the Nulls could gain so much information without so much as a glitch in their ingenious programming. He understood now why the Kaminoans had thought that the Nulls were too dangerous to keep around. Jas and his brothers in Crimson were troublemakers and occasionally rowdy, but the Nulls were just madly smart and unpredictable.

Further to the point of the Nulls' imaginative insanity, Dusty and Jas' arrival on Tochin had been without incident, and neither could believe that their arrival had brought no suspicions. Jas had thought that they would have been snagged for certain at one of the Imperial checkpoints well before breaking Tochin's atmosphere, but their cover stories and their identities were solid.

Although there were no Imperial entanglements during the trip to Tochin, both Jas and Dusty took the solitude of the excursion to work on the closure they hadn't fully received from both the deaths of their brothers and Gan. Losing Gath and Mouse over two months ago on Felucia had been a blow to Jas and Dusty that neither had wanted to face previously. It was still hard to think of themselves as a fractured unit now. Crimson was known for surviving, defying, and rejecting everything – including death – as Dusty had told Tarj back on Tochin. To be down two of their brothers had shaken the two of them, and if it wasn't for Gan's beyond-the-grave transmission that they needed to live without regrets, neither of them were certain that they would have found comfort or happiness without their brothers. However, Gan's untimely words of wisdom had sparked both Jas and Dusty to move on with their lives and take control of their futures now that they could. They had agreed that they would always mourn their deceased family, but if they didn't start looking ahead to a new life and a new family of their own, they'd be joining their departed family far too soon.

Forcing aside the grief that was always a nagging bite in the back of his mind, Jas shifted his attention away from the older man in the pub who was registered as a grain farmer that maintained a residence on the outskirts of town. Moving past the grain farmer, Jas now glanced at the structure of the pub. The building had certainly seen its usage over the years, and the structure alone had to be easily forty years old. The walls were decorated only with the holos of Tochin's town history, each holo depicting a different year with how the town had changed.

Shifting his eyes from the holos, Jas saw that one of the wooden beams near the center of the building had chips and nicks in it from what looked like a number of bad fights or even a metal blade throwing contest. The small, rounded tables were also made of wood with chairs that had seen better days. A darkened corner up on a five-step landing had a wooden rail to prevent patrons from falling onto the floor below. Studying the corner for a moment, Jas saw a young man and a young woman stand up from the table where they had been seated. The female was obscured in shadows, but she led the willing male to a curtain that hung as a doorway to a room or hallway, and Jas suddenly turned his attention away realizing that their reason for wanting the private corner was probably much more than an alcoholic buzz.

Bringing his attention before him again, Jas looked at the L-shaped bar as it extended from one of the walls across the length of the room and ended with a small pull-up door that gave the barkeep access to the pub from behind the serving counter.

There was no music playing, which Jas found a relief due to the fact that it would just resonate throughout the small size of the place. Even though he could use the _buy'ce_ to filter out the noises, he wasn't certain how much information Dusty would gather if he could barely hear anyone he tried to contact.

A single holo-screen was turned on above the counter, and it was constantly showing the latest news feeds. Jas considered that the screen was probably used for watching whatever sporting events these Tochin people preferred, but with the lack of entertainment currently taking place while Palpatine finalizes his laws, news filled the holo-screen instead of the entertainment that most beings preferred to watch.

Glancing up, Jas saw that the male Twi'lek newscaster was reporting another upheaval that had been squelched by the help of the stormtroopers and the local law enforcement on the world of Corellia. The Twi'lek's lekku twitched in concern while the images of different species were shown being arrested and taken to Imperial prisons to await trial. In the image that played on the screen there was an assortment of beings, ranging from Elomin and Duros to humans, who were being forcefully dragged from their protest into the imprisonment vehicles. The protestors were screaming and shouting profanities about Emperor Palpatine and the unfairness of the Empire's laws. Then, the camera cut off just as a stormtrooper aimed a blaster at one of the protestors.

Jas turned his head slightly toward Dusty trying not to dwell on _Les'ika_ and the various nightmares that he imagined were happening to her behind the palace walls. He was certain that she would not encourage any trouble for her or Tarj, and he knew she would hide in the places that she told him she often did. However, there was always that underlying concern he had that something wasn't right, and he hated that he couldn't just run in with blasters firing and find her.

Watching Dusty take a long sip of the ale that he had ordered a few minutes ago, Jas wondered how his brother was truly handling the alcohol. Drinking wasn't something either of them had the chance to experiment with in the GAR, but Jas really had no idea exactly what kinds of recreational activities Dusty had been experiencing during their stay on Mandalore. For all Jas knew, Dusty handled alcohol without incident, and he spent more time in the cantinas on Mandalore than in his girlfriends' bedrooms.

A bowl of small, crunchy baked dough balls had also been set before them, and Dusty decided that in their short time in the pub, he had better make it look like the two of them were seeking a chance to relax after a hard day of wandering Tochin's empty plots of land.

The tan-skinned, blonde-haired bartender returned to the two men and eyed both of them strangely for a moment. Her dull, blue eyes had been set wide on her face, and her body was not petite but bulky and strong. Dusty mused that she would have made a fine defenseman for one of the bolo-ball teams. Looking at her hands now, Dusty could see that the physical labor of running the town pub was evident in the wear of them. He estimated that she was probably only in her mid-forties, but the wrinkles of hard work on her face gave her the appearance of a much older woman.

The way she cocked an eyebrow at him now led Dusty to believe that she had heard a lot of stories from the locals and had even taken on her share of rowdy patrons. It gave Dusty the impression that she was just awaiting trouble from him and Jas and she seemed glad to put an end to whatever nonsense they might be scheming.

Taking the credit chip that was left on the counter before Dusty, the barkeep leaned forward and her low-hanging green blouse seemed to open a world to Dusty that he decided he had no interest in entering. He briefly remembered how Cerina had leaned forward very similarly a long time ago for him, but he fought against that memory. Thinking of her was not going to get Jas back to _Les'ika_, and right now the mission was all about reuniting the Tochin princess with her cloned knight.

"Sweetie, you can stay and drink until your heart's content," the bartender said to Dusty. Her voice was surprisingly feminine, entirely unfitting to her brawny body. She flicked her eyes quickly to Jas, but kept her words at Dusty. "Your…friend, however…well unless he takes that contraption off his head and partakes in some drinking of his own, he's only taking up space for someone who would be willing to pay for my selection of spirits."

Dusty nodded and looked to Jas as though he had this conversation regularly with those who did not know the two of them. "Madam, I do apologize for my friend's lack of involvement, but I must warn you that I've seen his face only once. And, sad to say, there is barely a face to be seen. He was a victim to a horrendous homestead blaze when he was merely a lad."

The bartender glanced her eyes back to Jas and something that looked like pity flashed in them for a moment. Then, her eyes squinted as though trying to see into the T-visor. "Lost your face when you were young. I guess you've never been with a woman, then?"

Jas felt the color drain from his face at this barkeep's sudden curiosity, and he was even more grateful for the _buy'ce_ that covered what he was certain was a look of shock and horror. He had no idea how exactly to respond, especially over a matter that was so deeply personal.

"Well, I can make…_arrangements_ for you, if you'd like," the barkeep continued softly, almost conspiratorially. "I rent out the second story to a…fairly liberal group of entrepreneurs."

Dusty knew he had to intervene quickly, as he was able to see the embarrassed stiffness in Jas' posture, and he could tell that the barkeep hadn't noticed Jas' subtle discomfort. It wasn't something most people would notice, but growing up together and sharing battles beside each other for over ten years had given clones an ability to hone in on those nearly invisible reactions.

Dusty fought now to keep the neutral look on his face and avoid laughing over his brother's sudden predicament. "Madam, let's just say that my guardian is not distracted by the fairer sex…considering that there were other parts of him, well…also damaged."

Jas jerked his head quickly towards Dusty at that, unable to stop his surprise at his brother's comment and watched while Dusty tried to hide his smirk behind another sip of the ale.

"I'm thinking, sir, you've had enough to drink," Jas said, trying to find a comeback of his own for Dusty's smart mouth and coming up empty. His words sounded deep and gravely due to a modulator in the helmet that disguised his true voice.

The bartender seemed to brighten for a moment, watching this unlikely pair and seeming to catch them unawares. She then turned her attention toward Jas. "Your friend a lightweight?"

"I'm supposed to be his bodyguard, not his mother," Jas grumbled, sprinkling on a touch of the anger he figured a person like the Mandalorian bodyguard he was supposed to be would have for the spoiled man Dusty was portraying. Then, Jas shrugged his shoulders seeming to think it was better to go a little humble so that the attention would get drawn away from them as he decided to drop the persona of a thug a few notches. "But, he pays well, so I deal with his shortcomings."

"Well, we don't get too many off-worlders here," the barkeep said, as her eyes moved back to business after the light moment had passed. "We're one of those back world places no one cares about…except for this Empire. They think our miners can get them all kinds of tolium off that Tochin deathtrap. We've already lost a good dozen men. For years they mined that planet with only a few injuries and two deaths. This Empire shows up, and we're suddenly seeing consistent body cases return. Moon Three's now got more widows and orphans than a charity center on Coruscant."

Dusty looked into his still-full mug of ale for a moment realizing that the Empire was quickly becoming an overpowering force that could hold the entire galaxy in its clutches. He was beginning to wonder just how suicidal their mission to find _Les'ika_ really was and if maybe they should have heeded Skirata's advice to forget about the princess. Then, Dusty had his own memories of his brother's unquestionable happiness during those days in Tochin's forest and how afterwards _Les'ika's_ constant flow of comm. messages had brightened Jas' face despite the distance that was between them.

Dusty then abruptly threw his doubts into his mental trash compactor and destroyed them. There was no turning back now, and Dusty was more than willing to reunite Jas with the woman he undoubtedly loved.

"Sorry to hear that," Dusty offered to the barkeep, putting honest sympathy into his voice, "But my interest in your world is merely in land. I had the opportunity to overhear some Republic troopers talking a couple months before the Jedi Purge. They mentioned this old equinine farm that's gone to waste here. I wanted to look into it and make it into a profitable investment. I'm not quite sure what to do with the land just yet, but I just need to know who I can get to sell it to me. I would imagine that there's a lot of history in that acreage."

"Ah, another one looking to drain our world of resources," the barkeep complained angrily, and Dusty could see the genuine pride she had for her world shining in her eyes.

"Hey," Dusty said with that smile of his that he had perfected to charm others. He decided to turn the conversation just a bit more positive to earn her trust again. "I wasn't thinking of draining anything. Sounds to me like your world could use a place for some entertainment or a place to let the younglings have some fun. I've heard the amusement ride business could use a kickstart."

The bartender turned to Jas again, seeming skeptical about Dusty's intentions. "That his booze talking?"

Jas shook his head and put a hand on Dusty's shoulder, knowing that they had to start building their allies somewhere and a barkeep who knew everyone in town was probably a good place to begin. "It's the idealist in him talking. That's probably the reason I take his pay to keep him safe. Don't let the ambitious land buyer in this one fool you."

Leaning forward again and talking softly, the barkeep glanced between the two off-worlders. "Supposedly, that land you want was the site for a small battle during the Clone War. I haven't personally seen it, but there were rumors of some wreckage that this clandestine trooper squad created. Somehow, they even managed to bring in one of the traitors to the former king."

Dusty hid his moment of guilt, feeling no obligation to fill in the details. He remembered that time all to well. The wreckage on that site was Mouse's handiwork, and Dusty was certain that his brother would have laughed proudly to hear how his demolitions had received renowned status almost a year later. The thought of his missing brothers from Crimson sobered him for a long moment, and he fought to keep the mask of a cheerful real estate mogul on his face.

"Sounds like I might be able to even dig up some artifacts to donate to your town history," Dusty offered, hoping that maybe he would also find something of his brothers to keep as his own reminder of that happier time in his life.

The barkeep now smiled with genuine warmth. She reached her hand forward towards Dusty, offering to shake his. He quickly grasped her hand and introduced himself. "Bhen Shipley."

"Merrine Idia," the barkeep replied. Then she offered her hand to Jas, only to have a blaster point in her face before Jas could connect with her.

"Tania tells me my tab is full," an older man grumbled, not wavering the blaster from Merrine.

Jas took a quick look at the man, and he thought he recognized the dark hair and dark eyes that were the features of this human. Then, the HUD in his helmet brought up a profile, identifying the man as former palace guard Captain Davi Saun, and Jas realized this was the same guard who tried to block _Les'ika_ from catching up with Crimson in the hangar the day they departed Tochin almost a year ago.

Moving quickly and unexpectedly, Jas brought a hand forward, catching the blaster in one hand and with the other he slammed Saun into the bar. Shoving his face onto the sticky wooden counter, Jas set Saun's blaster into his belt and twisted the former guard's arm behind his back, pinning him there. For a moment, Jas thought it was pathetic how Saun hadn't even put up a decent fight, and he understood now how Hazar had kidnapped _Les'ika_ so easily. If this was any indication of the kinds of training these guards had, then any regrets Jas once had about pinning Tarj on this world to protect her were now instantly dissolved.

"_Kaysh ret pirimmuy_," Jas said nodding his head towards Saun and telling Dusty in _Mando'a_ that the man he had restrained might be useful.

Dusty raised an eyebrow in curiosity as to why Jas would think that way. Then he took a good look at the man as well. After a brief moment, Dusty recognized the former guard and had come to the same conclusion that Jas had. He knew that they had to get Saun out of earshot and in a secluded corner somewhere. He and Jas needed to quietly question this former guard for whatever knowledge he had of the palace and then they were going to take that information and pick it completely apart until they found a way to get _Les'ika_.

Turning to Merrine, Dusty reached for a credit chip in his tunic pocket. "What's he owe? I'll cover his expenses, and you can consider that it'll help make up for Cabur's lack of participation in your drink selection. While I pay the tab, Cabur can help escort him out of your establishment."

Merrine seemed to be considering the situation and how best to handle it as she could see that Cabur easily held Davi Saun in a grasp that was well practiced. Her eyes darted between Bhen and Davi and then back to Bhen again. Scratching her cheek in thought, she brought her eyes to Bhen. "You can let him go. Davi's harmless. He's not been the same since the Empire had relieved all the palace guards of their duty. It seems none of them know what to do with themselves." After a shrug of her shoulders and a long pause, she smiled ruefully. "Besides, his blaster's never loaded. Blaster cartridges cost too much for us now."

Slowly, Jas took his hands off Saun and looked to the older man as he sluggishly lifted himself off the counter of the bar and brought his hands forward. Jas expected this Davi Saun to suddenly drop into a fighting stance to try and take him off guard, but when the retaliation didn't come, Jas wasn't quite sure what to say.

Davi brushed his hands over his worn tunic, appearing to remove dust and smooth out wrinkles that had nothing to do with Jas' grasp. His eyes looked between Jas and Dusty. "Can't say that I've seen the likes of you two before."

"They're just off-worlders looking at the old equinine farm," Merrine said from behind the bar sounding suddenly bored.

Saun let his eyes roam over the two of them, and for a brief moment, Jas saw that the old captain still had something left in him from his days as a palace guardian. The way he looked them over showed him that there was still a spark of authority in the man. He seemed to be assessing them, deciding if they truly were a threat or not.

"Can't say we've ever seen a Mandalorian up close before either," Saun said as he brought that scrutinizing glare over Jas' armor. His eyes caught a glance of the black _kama_ that draped down from Jas' belt towards the back of his knees. "And, what's with the skirt?"

Jas suddenly understood Tarj's frustrations all those years when he had been teased about the _kama_. He wondered if Skirata chose this design on purpose, hoping that Jas would give up on the mission from just the sheer embarrassment of _aruetisse_ ignorance. "If you think it's a skirt, then it's not your business to know."

Saun cracked a smile at that. It wasn't really a humored smile, but the kind of authoritative smile that one who was familiar with being in charge often exhibited. "Bodyguard, huh?"

Turning now to Dusty, Saun asked him, "What makes you so special you need a bodyguard of his caliber?"

"Don't like being pick pocketed," Dusty commented casually as he appeared to be inspecting for damage on one of his fingernails.

"Something isn't right about you two," Saun said scratching his head, "But Merrine seems to think you check out."

"How about I get you a drink for your troubles?" Dusty asked as he pointed towards one of the far tables in a corner where the light didn't fully reach and a shadow covered most of the area. "You seem pretty knowledgeable about things, and I could use your insight prior to making any purchases."

Saun turned to Merrine and saw that she had already brought forth a mug filled with a green concoction. She winked at Saun. "Maybe you can convince him that Tochin isn't a good investment."

Saun picked up the mug and moved towards the table Dusty had indicated. Dusty and Jas followed behind and took seats where Jas could keep an eye on the pub as well as watch Saun.

"You're not here for the equinine farm," Saun said quietly after he took a long swig of his drink. Then, his eyes darted between the two former commandos. "But, you don't seem to be with the Empire either."

"Didn't think you were quite so clever," Dusty told him as he rested one of his arms across the table. His other one remained hidden out of sight, and he quickly distracted Saun from noticing it as his next statement was said to mildly confuse the former guard. "Last time I saw any palace guards they were more babysitters than real soldiers."

At that Saun raised an eyebrow and a twinge of anger touched his face. Dusty saw his words had done their trick as Saun was suddenly annoyed and was trying to figure out how a Mandalorian and a real estate mogul knew anything about palace guards. It was the distraction the former commando needed to keep his blaster concealed while it was trained on the former guard.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Davi asked sharply.

"Snide comment," Dusty replied quickly, waving it away with his other hand. "I was out of line."

Davi wasn't convinced, and his face took on the typical mask an interrogator would exhibit just before getting into a long session of questions. "You know more than you pretend. Around here, that's not taken too kindly."

This time Jas spoke. "She was always a burden to you, wasn't she?"

Davi raised an eyebrow, and allowed a moment of confusion to cross his features as his voice portrayed it in his frustration. "Who are you talking about?"

This time Jas answered. "Think back a long time ago. She only wanted to say goodbye to the squad that ensured her safety, and you thought she was nothing more than a lost child who wandered into the hangar."

Anger sparked in Davi's eyes, and his head spun sharply at the armored man. "Who are you?"

"_Udessi_," Dusty warned softly to Jas. Then, he brought his attention back to Saun. "What can you tell us about Harkin and the events that took place before he relieved you of your station?"

Davi leaned over the table again and eyed down the Mandalorian. "I don't care what kinds of weapons you're armed with, you've no right…"

Dusty moved his free hand between Jas and Saun, prepared to push either Jas or Saun away from each other and get between them. "Look, I'm just here for a land purchase."

"Somehow I doubt that," Davi snapped quietly.

"Tell us what you know about Harkin," Jas said without any warmth.

"How about you tell me why you're really here on Tochin," Davi argued instead.

Jas sighed angrily. "Maybe we're just angry mercenaries in need of a good fight."

"We're not looking for any kind of fight, despite what my trigger-happy bodyguard wants," Dusty countered, trying to keep these two from getting into some kind of scrap and blowing the mission. Briefly, he wondered exactly when he became like Gath and Jas became like him. Then, he pushed the thought aside. This was not the time to grieve again for his brother. Instead, he shot Jas a look for nearly losing the one lead they had managed to acquire during the day. "We just want information."

"What kind of information?" Davi asked. "You've set foot onto an Imperial stronghold, and there's nothing to be had here unless you want to meet a squad of stormtroopers and a quick death."

Then, Davi looked between the two off-worlders again. "Besides what do you know of those clones who…?"

Suddenly, the former guard planted his hands firmly on the tabletop and leaned forward. His voice was low, as he quickly realized just whose company he was within. "Not sure why I didn't recognize it sooner that you were military. It should have been obvious to me in your ability to pin a man down without harming him, but you're good at throwing off your quarry. You know that if I turn you in, I get decent compensation for my supposed loyalty to the Empire."

"Let's just say that you're not dealing with run-of-the mill troopers here," Dusty warned as his hidden hand suddenly cocked the concealed blaster that he had kept trained on Saun.

Jas slowly reached into a pouch near his thigh plate. It wasn't the usual place he stored the item, but he wanted to access it quickly in case a situation such as the one they were in arose. He brought forth the braided lock and showed it to Saun hoping it would get his point across explicitly and with as few words as necessary.

"Cabur here has never been happy about your interference that day in the hangar," Dusty told Saun as his eyes darted between the object in Jas' hand and Saun's expression of trying to piece together this chance meeting. "Someone in authority much higher than yours gave her permission so she could be there with him."

"Sithspawn," Davi breathed as he took a long look at the brown braid and then to the Mandalorian visor. Shock registered on his face as the concept of it struck him slowly. When he did finally comprehend it, Davi's eyes changed, as he was no longer the hardened guard who had been trying to figure out the intentions of the off-worlders he came into contact with. Instead, his face softened, and something just shy of a strict father crossed his features, making him seem older than he was for a long moment. It was obvious now to Jas that Saun actually did care about the princess. Where Vollan was probably gentle and kind, Saun was strict and no-nonsense.

"You're back for her," the former guard finally said quietly, "You really came back."

"I need information," Jas said, allowing for genuine concern in his voice as opposed to the no-nonsense and aloof bodyguard he had been portraying. Saun was exactly the kind of partner he and Dusty needed, and Jas saw that they had finally made progress towards acquiring an essential ally.

Taking the braid from the former guard's sight, Jas returned it to the concealed pouch as he saw his point had been clearly made. Saun had understood now that Jas was not here to harm _Les'ika_ as his armor would suggest, but instead he had come to protect her, to take her away from the world that had destroyed everything she cared about.

Saun shook his head with pity and looked between the two men before him wondering how he missed the obvious features in the one without the helmet. If he looked hard now, he could see that the structure of the man's jawbone defined him as one of those former Republic clones.

"Honestly, none of us really knew what transpired at that moment," he explained while talking about the past. "We saw things exchanged between you two, but none of us believed that her father would have defied the law and given that kind of permission, especially not to a soldier who might not return."

"He found a loophole and did everything legally," Dusty said, relaxing his guard and setting the blaster back in its hidden holster. He could see that Saun had removed his façade of being the pub's agitator and that they had clearly passed whatever test he and Merrine set up for the off-worlders who entered the tavern. Studying the man's eyes, Dusty saw the trustworthy and genuine loyalty that Saun still exhibited for the deceased king. The former guard might have been an arrogant _di'kut_ at one point in his life, but unemployment had obviously humbled him.

"He pulled an ancient law," Jas further explained. "It wasn't removed from the doctrines, merely forgotten about over time."

"Vollan was good at that kind of stuff – finding loopholes – especially with her," Davi offered with a small smile as he rubbed the top of his head. After a moment, he shook it sadly seeming to relive that moment in the hangar so many months ago, appearing to choose his words carefully. "Poor kid. She always kept to herself, kind of quiet like that. When we saw her in the hangar, we could just see that she had no idea how to maneuver around all the crates and the commotion. If her father knew we'd let her get hurt without so much as trying to warn her, it'd break his heart. We had no choice but to step in. Then, later on when you and her kissed, well, Chora just panicked. She and I both thought you were just some cloned army thug trying to take advantage of her. Your friend, Tarj, though, he said that if we wanted to know what honor was we needed to watch you. Of course, he also grinned with some kind of madness saying that he'd like to challenge the first one of us who interferes to a bare-knuckles one-on-one. Honestly, none of us knew she chose you. Like I said, she's quiet like that and keeps to herself."

"She's in trouble now, isn't she?" Jas asked carefully.

"She's more than in trouble, I'm afraid," Saun said with sincerity, as failure crept into his voice. "Moff Harkin announced just the other day that he's going to marry her."

Jas felt his world suddenly collapse in on itself and his shoulders slumped with an internal agony that only he could feel.

"But, rumor has it," Saun offered leaning in closer, "She's going to make an appearance in the town later this week. If you want an extra set of eyes, I'm in. I vowed my life to the security of the royal family, and no one's come to me to force me into revoking my vow of service. As far as I'm concerned, Vollan's daughter is still my responsibility."


	25. Chapter 24

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again to those few of you who have been keeping up with my humble tale. I always appreciate hearing from you and reading your thoughts (good or bad) as to how the story is going. This chapter started as an "AU" concept, and it just turned out so well that it became a very poignant moment for the characters.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 24**

_If one studies history, it is most notable that when governments align, it usually occurs most smoothly through the union of those dedicated to a similar cause. It is with optimism and trust that I believe Tochin and the Empire will unite in a smooth transition. With honor and compassion, I have proposed a union in the form of marriage to Princess Arlesse Psach, and although there are expected reservations in a union as intricate as this, my proposal has ultimately been accepted.  
_Excerpt from Moff Gillard Harkin's public speech announcing his marriage proposal

**86 Days after Order 66  
****Tochin Moon III**

Arlesse wasn't entirely certain what had prompted her to venture into the tapestry room. She often avoided this particular chamber because it was a place that many people tended to inhabit. She knew that most people frequented the room simply for the artistic works that the tapestries represented, and often it became a meeting place of sorts. However, with the Empire's growing influence over the palace, most of the nobles that roamed the halls had disappeared either due to rank dissolving by Harkin or because they just chose to keep their distance after the loss of Vollan Psach.

Moving towards one of the tapestries in the now empty room, Arlesse thought back to a couple months ago when she had taken a few moments to look upon the cloth artwork during the late evening hours. It was about five months after Jas had left Tochin, and Janelle had taken the time to sit with Arlesse earlier that morning. Talking privately in the confines of Arlesse's chamber, Janelle had confessed that she had cornered Jas the night before his departure and had interrogated him about his intentions for Arlesse.

At first, Arlesse was mortified that her cousin would be so conniving, especially when Jas was the first man who dared to give her any kind of honest attention. However, as Janelle spoke further regarding her observations and her conversation with Jas, Arlesse understood that as a princess, she needed to be careful about with whom her affections landed. Although she did not take an active role in the hierarchy of their monarchy, she was still royal blood and she would not be permitted to freely and blindly have her choice of companion unless he had passed the trials that would earn his respect.

In the eyes of her father, Janelle's interrogation was a necessary evil in order to truly understand what kind of man had taken an interest in his only daughter. And, as Arlesse thought about it, she was certain that any loving father would play the same devious games with any daughter's suitor, especially if she were an only daughter, and especially if she were a royal one.

Stepping softly towards the tapestry of the equinine beast that defied the storm surrounding it, Arlesse studied the scene now as she had those months ago. Janelle had told her that Jas had taken an interest in this particular piece, and at that time Arlesse tried to understand his fascinations. She thought about writing him more than once to see if he even remembered the tapestry, but she didn't want to fill their conversations with the tensions of her royal upbringing. It was more important for her to concentrate their conversations on the things she knew he would find important, such as how Tarj was faring with palace life and how he was dealing with the palace guards. She had written Jas consistently about the status of the war from the holo-news that covered her part of the planetary system, as she was certain he was only told what was important to his mission and not anywhere else in the galaxy. She even told him about the latest adventure stories she was reading, as she believed it was something to remind him that civilian life still awaited his return.

Now as Arlesse looked upon this particular tapestry, she could envision Jas as the spirit of the equinine beast, the one lone figure that defied everything around it. He stood against the might of the tempest that surrounded him, refusing to back down from his objective. She knew it was merely her fantasies that were taking over her thoughts again, but to be spirited away in her daydreams by the man she loved was always how she coped through each lonely day missing the soldier who vowed knighthood to her in order to spend the remainder of his shortened life by her side.

Arlesse allowed herself to remain lost in her fantasy visions, oblivious to the room and the man who had quietly begun entering it.

Gillard paused momentarily in his movements, staying in the shadowed corner of the doorway for a moment, lingering in hidden silence. He wanted to develop a soothing way to announce his presence and avoid startling the princess. He hadn't intended to settle into such a corner, but he had not expected to find that she had wandered into the tapestry room, as it was not one of her usual places to inhabit.

Gillard knew that since the moment he had privately proposed the idea of a marriage to the princess nearly a week ago, she kept her distance even further than before. When he wasn't occupied with handling matters on Tochin or enforcing the next law from the Empire, Gillard had made considerable attempts to engage Arlesse Psach in a conversation, but her stony silence and her constant running from him proved extremely difficult. At one point, Gillard had caught her attention by offering her one of those adventure novels she was reputed for reading. And, as usual, she had hurried away from him, taking no interest in him or what he wanted to offer her.

Again, Gillard wondered why he continued to pursue this princess. Arlesse Psach treated him with nothing but silence, and it had grown worse since a couple days ago when he had made it publicly known that he would marry her and unite Tochin royalty and the Empire under the same house. Although the announcement had brought with it applause and approval from both the Imperial representatives and the noble houses, the princess had exuded nothing but empty despair.

Silently studying Arlesse Psach, he saw that she was staring at one of the tapestries in the open room, her eyes scrutinizing over the image of an equinine beast standing on its hind legs as though defying the storm that was around it. Gillard considered that maybe she was comparing herself to the defiant beast, refusing to back down despite the fact that the storm surrounding her was stronger than she was.

Gillard saw her blue eyes cloud over with memories, and he could almost certainly imagine what she was thinking and who was with her in those memories. Suddenly, a nervousness that he never quite felt before came over him at the thought of approaching her. It wasn't the first time his emotions left him with that nagging anxiety about her, but she was the first woman in a long time who released it from the place where he kept it contained and trapped.

Gillard reminded himself that he was an Imperial moff, and with such a title, he could wield his power like a weapon if he chose. The politician in him considered the idea of ordering this young girl to do whatever bidding he wanted, whether he forced her to become his personal slave or he found a reason to execute her. Instead, he often found himself touched by compassion for her, feeling remorse for seeing her so broken over the loss of her family and an absent clone. He wanted to know what it would take so that he could move into the place where her cloned man once occupied and what kinds of tests he would have to pass in order feel an ounce of her acceptance.

And, again, that question of why he wanted to pursue such a woman surfaced in his thoughts. He could have any woman he wanted, just by ordering it, and he didn't understand why he had to win over this princess' affections. There were other women who had willingly wanted his company, but he turned them away. Now, he wasn't certain why he had done so. He wondered if it was merely his own pride that was driving him to pursue Arlesse Psach, the need to claim a royal companion as it would bring him even further respect in the eyes of the Empire.

Then, Gillard saw how her loyalty shone through her blue irises while she stared at the tapestry. He saw that raw devotion, that undeniable blind faith she had for a cloned man who was never intended to be anything more than blaster fodder in a pre-destined war that had been fueled by the ambitions of a Sith lord.

Aware now of the strength of the princess' emotions, Gillard suddenly felt his spark of competition light anew. He knew that she could be just as devoted to him if she allowed herself the opportunity to step out of the past and look to the future. All he ever wanted was just one honest relationship in his life, and if he could earn her affections, he was certain that she would never stray from the happy existence he had intended to give her.

Stepping quietly from the darkened shadow where he had been within, Gillard forced the nagging anxiety aside. He was a political icon who had experienced far more distressing moments in his career than merely approaching a humble but stubborn princess. He was capable of being charming and considerate and there was a time in his life when he was even idealistic and naïve. He thought that, perhaps, the secret to winning her over was to be as lowly as her clone had been. She had been surrounded by arrogance and pride her entire life, and from what Gillard knew of the clone army, they were not afforded the luxuries that other beings took for granted.

"Good Morning, Highness," Gillard said softly, as he moved towards Arlesse.

He saw her flinch again at the mere sound of his voice, and he had decided that the time had come to fight for her affections. He was far from the cloned warrior that she had fallen in love with, but he was willing now to show her just how determined he was to give her everything that was in his capability to do so.

Arlesse abruptly turned from the tapestry to once again face the executioner of her family. For days, she had remained hidden from Harkin and when she couldn't, she simply walked away from him. When she was alone in her room, she scrolled through the messages that she and Jas had shared. While in her solitude, she lived in the fantasies that never stopped playing in her mind. It was so easy for her to imagine Jas coming to her rescue, giving her the liberation that she feared would never happen. Now, Harkin was in her presence yet again. She hated how he gently tried to seduce her from her love of Jas, and she decided that this time words just weren't worth the effort to waste on him. Turning away from Harkin, Arlesse would continue as usual, seeking her solace as far away from him as she could.

"Please," Gillard said softly as his hand reached out to grasp hers. He felt her flinch yet again at his touch, and he feared it would never be comfortable between them. He was certain that if her clone grasped her hand, she would melt into the grip.

Gillard swallowed hard, taking a cautious step towards her back, his eyes tracing the coils of her dark hair. Why couldn't he just force her into the political arrangement that was necessary to secure his position and place him into the rank of her world's royalty? It should not be so hard to take this young woman to his bedchamber, to seduce her with the physical pleasures that would procure him an heir, but he couldn't because he simply was not that kind of man.

Arlesse closed her eyes and conjured up Jas' face before her. She forced her ears to remember his accent, and she allowed her lips to relive the gentle roughness of his impassioned kisses.

"Will you ever not be my enemy?" Gillard asked quietly.

At that, Arlesse felt her eyes snap open. She spun to face him and let her hand break free from his touch. Her voice was rough, broken like it had been since the death of the Empire's alleged conspirators, those of which included her father and cousin. "My family is gone because of you."

"I was under orders," he pleaded, "no different than the kinds of demands that Tarj or your clone received."

Arlesse was appalled that he dared try to use the excuse of obeying commands to earn her sympathy. She knew the history of the cloned men in the army when it was under the Republic and how they were not provided choices from even before the time that they were released from their cloning vats. This man before her was raised politically with a family that taught him fabrication and manipulation as the cornerstone of his character. It was the life that Janelle was accustomed to living, the life Vollan Psach saved Arlesse from knowing.

"Please don't compare yourself to…"

"It's the truth," he breathed, realizing again that he wasn't able to just push her against the wall and kiss her until she accepted him as her suitor. "Disobedience to the Emperor…"

At that, Arlesse turned away from him, but Harkin was quicker to react than she was to move.

"Please," he said softly, taking a gentle hold on her arm again. Gillard felt that nervousness arise from within him, and he never had such worries about talking to a woman before. He wondered why she made it so difficult for him. He had been exposed to all ranks of beings while in the Senate so he could not imagine that it was simply because she was royalty. He thought then it might be because of her sincerity, the way truth could not be concealed in her eyes, and maybe it was difficult for him to accept that kind of raw honesty. "There's a flimsi-novel shop in town I know you used to visit occasionally."

Arlesse felt a sudden concern that Harkin would use his power to destroy something else in her life because of her lack of interest in him. He had taken so much already that she should have realized he would do his research on her and destroy every last fragment of her life.

"I know you've been trapped here for weeks," Gillard told her gently, "and I want to amend that."

Arlesse felt herself suddenly turn towards Harkin. She caught a glimpse of the humbled man he was, the person he kept closeted away behind the driven politician, and she tried not to think about how he could be a multitude of different men. She didn't like how something in her wanted to learn about the modest man and that she was curious about why he had been hidden from sight. It was easier for her to push away the politician and the executioner who had taken her family from her, and it was easier to ignore the flirtations of the dictator who had ended her legal engagement to her knight.

Feeling her resentment begin anew for the Imperial moff that Harkin represented, Arlesse could find no reason to trust this man's hopeful words. She knew in her heart that he would never scour the galaxy for her safe return like her father had done and he would never protect her from the politicians of the Imperial government and let her stay faded in the background. The moment that their union would be completed, she would be dragged into the line of fire and scrutinized under every citizen's gaze. Her privacy would cease to exist, and her anonymity in the galaxy would be lost, risking the wrath of the Emperor, should she be found disobedient in his expectations.

"Tomorrow," Gillard pushed softly, "We'll go into town, and you can purchase whatever flimsi chronicles you want. I've made the arrangements for you already."

Arlesse felt her eyes connect to his, feeling her disbelief in his words shining in her irises. She waited for the conditions, the terms he would inject into his proposal. She wanted to know what horrible favor she needed to incur in order to experience just a brief moment of the normalcy she once lived.

Gillard watched the skepticism in her blue irises at his offer. He saw how she was anticipating something from her in return, something she would deem inappropriate. However, he also saw something very unexpected. There was a crack in her defenses, a faint nick that would open the doorway to the world in her eyes. He found the pathway he needed in order to earn her affections properly and now something had finally awakened in him. He was not going to just let her walk away and leave him spinning in the constant confusion she wove. He felt the sparks of emotion growing for her, the tiny flames of kindness that he had tried to share with her for the last couple days.

Gillard saw that the princess was beginning to slowly break, how she had taken a tiny step away from her past, and he needed her to see how he was developing affections for her, how he had been trying to ignite every emotional spark that had quietly materialized for her. He was not blind to the gentle soul and the compassionate essence that comprised of this young woman.

Stepping towards the princess, Harkin slid his hand from her arm to her fingers and took them in his own. He was aware of the constant flinch that she always offered in response to him, and he had decided now that he would grow accustomed to that flinch until it was no longer noticeable.

"I see every day what a cloned man once saw in you," he told her, keeping his voice low and soft. "Your gentle compassion and your devotion are commendable."

Arlesse felt her eyes lock to Harkin's, and she inhaled sharply as though she couldn't breathe suddenly. Standing in the close proximity to him, she could see that the hazel shading in his eyes was from the way the green flecks were scattered in his brown irises. Looking beyond the color of his eyes, she saw the flashes of honesty in him and that the offered visit to town tomorrow was nothing but the truth. There was no hidden agenda in his offer, and it was something he wanted to give her because she needed it.

Feeling like she was suddenly enveloped in some kind of thick fog as it swirled around her, Arlesse grew more aware of the soft caress Harkin's fingers gave her palm. It wasn't until she felt the heat of his other hand pressing against the small of her back that she realized just how close they were now. She didn't remember moving towards him, but the space she consistently kept between them was no longer existent. Arlesse felt her attention briefly fall to his lips, and she wanted to be sick with betrayal at the very thought that she wondered what a kiss with him would feel like.

Gillard slowly watched the distance between them shrink to mere inches. He hadn't anticipated that the princess would allow him to indulge in a moment of such close proximity. He still waited for her to pull away or push him aside in her usual disgust, and he needed to prevent that from happening.

Before she could set up her defenses again, he spoke in a hushed whisper. "Don't shut me out. I see how he fell in love with you, and I know that I can, too."

Hearing Harkin's reference to Jas, Arlesse quickly pulled her hand free from his as her fists clenched in a combination of fright and anger. She tried to pull away, but the sudden smooth touch of his hand on her face was warm and gentle, contradicting the hatred she felt for him and what he had done to her family. She swallowed hard, believing it was a mistake, a manipulation of his to learn about Jas. She shook her head, fighting the possibility, the very concept. Her voice was certain that Harkin was lying about his affections for her. "No."

"Let me take his place," Harkin pleaded softly as he dared to bring his face closer to hers. "Let me love you."

Arlesse shook her head, trying to break free from the gentle touch of his hand that was the barrier holding her face to look at him. She felt the blockage against her back as his other hand kept a gentle but firm touch on her there as well. Not sure she wanted to actually hurt Harkin, Arlesse held back from trying a physical attack. Instead, she verbally tried one last time to let him free her. Arlesse's words were hushed, choked by some kind of betrayal that only she could feel. "Please don't…"

"He can't return," Harkin whispered as his words grazed her lips. "Your time with him can only be a memory now."

Arlesse tried to shake her head again, but Harkin continued talking. "I want to give you a future. My affections for you are true, and I know you can see it."

Arlesse took a shuddering breath at the honesty, the very real emotions that this man had developed for her. She didn't know if she could ever feel equally for him, and it had been only a few weeks since she last heard from Jas. She couldn't give up on him so easily and quickly. Jas needed more time. She was certain of that, and she promised him – vowed to him – that she would remain alone rather than give her love to anyone else.

"Arlesse," Harkin breathed her name, truly saying it for the first time, finally speaking the melodic incantation that he knew would seal his affections to her. It was a personal rule he had created for himself: never speak a woman's name unless you meant it. He refused to break that rule of his until this moment, this point when he saw in her eyes that she was bending and realizing that she could share her emotions with another. Speaking her name had lifted her eyes to his and cracked just a little more off the shield of defense that had been over her blue irises for so long.

"Please, let me go," Arlesse whispered while she was swept up in the whirlwind of confusion. While she hoped that Harkin would simply free her, she also hoped that the honest man in him would never release her.

"You can't run forever, and I don't want to be your enemy anymore," Gillard answered softly, realizing that she was not putting up her usual fight and if there was ever a time for this moment it was now. Tarj had remained absent, and even though Gillard had no idea where her guardian was, he would rather take the chance of being yanked away by the collar of his tunic than walk away discouraged for not making the attempt.

As though stepping off a cliff and taking a leap of faith, Gillard gently closed that tiny, precious inch between them and touched his lips upon hers. Surprise consumed him when Arlesse didn't pull away, and he pressed her tighter to him. He felt her cautiously reciprocate as though expecting Tarj or her clone to walk in and steal her away from him.

However, when no rescue came on some fantasy story cue, Harkin leaned in and deepened their kiss. He felt her return the touch, allowing the passion of the moment to consume her. He could clearly feel what he was certain was her attraction as her fingers clutched to his vest in some desperate attempt to experience their embrace.

Arlesse never intended to fall into the dizzying spiral of Harkin's influence. She felt the way his lips pressed upon hers, his touch practiced and certain. The lonely woman in her wanted to enjoy his touch, but the lady-in-waiting that she vowed she was for Jas overpowered the lonely being she had become. Suddenly, the lady-in-waiting took Arlesse to another place, another time.

Around her were the sounds of the forest on Tochin, and she could smell the flowers that were sweet in their fragrance. Birds fluttered their wings up in the trees above while small creatures rustled the leaves and branches on the ground. A brush of stubble gently grazed her lips and a gloved hand on the back of her neck drew her tighter against him. She felt her hands rise to the protective armor on his chest, and she clutched to the straps of the provisions pack that he carried on his back. She was consumed now by the moment, and as she reached up towards her knight, she leaned into their kiss. He pressed to her tighter, and held her stronger in a way that was both protective and compassionate.

After a few moments, Gillard gently pulled back and opened his eyes as the princess gasped quietly. He watched as her eyelids snapped open and a mask of shock covered her face.

Arlesse felt a wave of panic fill her, as she wanted to know what happened to Jas. She was certain she was not with Harkin, and she didn't understand what had happened.

"Let me go," she suddenly said in fear, trying to push Harkin away.

Gillard looked to her not understanding what she meant, especially after the passion that he had felt in her kiss and in the way she had clutched to him.

"Let me go," Arlesse repeated, fear eating into her words.

"Arlesse…" he started.

"I can't be with you," she breathed, cutting Harkin off. She began struggling to free herself from his hands, and the moff could see the truth of it in her eyes as panic crossed over her face.

Not certain why, Gillard let his hands fall and allowed Arlesse to pull free of him. He watched her run from the chamber, and clenched his fists with a mixture of confusion and anger. He wanted to feel the wave of heated anger that hovered below the surface, and he wanted to punish the princess to show her that her actions would end futilely. However, he still could not bring himself to harm her, and he knew that he was truly growing to love her. He was certain of it because if he didn't, he would have found some kind of punishment to bestow upon her a long time ago.

"I forewarned you that she is committed."

Gillard spun towards the sound of the clone's voice, surprised to see Tarj exit from shadows of his own. The armored man had his helmet in his hands before him as though studying the eye goggles, and he should have realized that the princess' guardian would be nearby. His voice was curious, edging towards anger. "Why didn't you interfere?"

"Because I'm a sick _shabuir_," Tarj responded as he eyes came towards Harkin's.

Gillard snorted a quick laugh at Tarj's answer. Then, he crossed his arms over his chest. "How does a clone inspire that kind of devotion from a princess? They both had to know that what they sought was nothing more than a fantasy."

Tarj turned his helmet in his hands and then put it back over his head. He wouldn't let Harkin see how he truly felt about Jas, and with the helmet on he could simply state facts without the emotions in his eyes to reveal that Jas was his brother through blood and comradeship. "She does not see him as a clone. She sees the good man he is, and I know that he would die for her without question. She chose him because he is a man who understands honor."

Gillard turned his eyes away from Tarj and let them wander towards the doorway where Arlesse had exited. His voice was flat, factual rather than accusatory. "I can see that you love her, too, even though you probably don't understand that concept."

"I was ordered to keep her safe," Tarj responded automatically. Then, he decided to explain himself further, to make his intentions absolutely clear to Harkin. "In the months that I have had this responsibility, I had adopted her as my sister, and my commitment to her has now become a choice rather than an order. So, if that is how you define love, then I fit your definition."

Gillard brought his attention back towards Tarj, unable to hide the surprise on his face as he absorbed Tarj's answers for a long moment. The moff found himself astonished that the clones of the former Republic were so well versed in such worldly matters. Tarj had often proved that the cloned soldiers of his breeding were more than just ignorant, order-following cannon fodder, and his insight now was just another testimony.

Watching the princess' bodyguard step towards the door, Harkin caught Tarj's attention with his voice and spoke. "Commander, you still didn't answer why didn't you interfere."

Tarj nodded silently and then he turned one last time to Harkin. "You needed to see her commitment for yourself, and she needed to be reminded of who she would lose."

At that, Tarj was gone and Gillard remained in the empty tapestry room. He turned his attention away from the doorway where Arlesse's guardian had exited. Gillard was certain that Tarj was on his way to check in on Arlesse. It was the typical behavior he had observed of them. Tarj always picked her up emotionally after she fell down, and he was certain this time would be no different. He just hoped that one day Arlesse would allow him the honor of healing her emotionally.

Turning towards the tapestry that had the princess so entranced earlier, Gillard felt the frustrated anger subside, and he found himself admiring her yet again for her devotion. Arlesse Psach would require more than one single kiss to be won over, and he had a lot to atone for after being responsible for killing her family. He only hoped that she would realize sooner rather than later that she had no choice in their companionship. He had no desire to take her against her will, but she needed their union in order to keep her protected from the Empire's minions. He needed her to understand that her clone would never return, and he was her last chance now for a life of comfort and compassion. That was something Tarj could never give her, and only Gillard had that kind of power.

**86 Days after Order 66  
****Tochin Moon III**

Arlesse squeezed past servants and clusters of stormtroopers as they moved about the hallways. Her chest burned with betrayal, her lips on fire for having touched Gillard Harkin. Her eyes stung with the need to release her tears, but she didn't want to allow them until she was alone, somewhere she would fall apart and have no witnesses. Her room was too far away on the other side of the palace, and her garden was behind her, closer to the room where Harkin remained. The library was just past the next couple sets of hallways, and she could find herself a corner somewhere behind a bookshelf where she could crumble.

Moving blindly and only thinking of her destination, Arlesse felt her shoulder bang into the armor plating on one of the stormtroopers, and she spun from the blow, finding that her back had slammed into the hallway wall. Her breath was knocked out of her chest at the blow, and she gasped heavily afraid she'd fall to the floor in a desperate attempt to get the air back.

The trooper brought his goggled face to her, anger initially in his voice. "Can't you…" Then, he realized that she was not simply one of the servants that they often tripped over, and his orders from Moff Harkin were to address the princess with the utmost respect rather than contempt. Although concern was not in his voice, ordered respect replaced his initial disgust. "Highness?"

Arlesse kept her eyes down to the floor, unable to look at anyone just now. Her breathing was ragged, and she could feel nothing but redness on her cheeks while the emotional shredding of her betrayal to Jas wracked her body with shudders. In her attempt to escape Harkin, Arlesse had forgotten about the legions of stormtroopers that wandered the palace on whatever patrol Harkin deemed they needed to be patrolling.

Her gasping had finally settled down, and the air she had lost slowly returned to her spent lungs, but she could still only stare at the floor before the stormtrooper in confusion. She had come to realize that no matter how far she ran in the palace, she could not escape Harkin's touch or his experienced seduction.

"Princess?" the trooper now asked, not certain if he needed to get someone in authority.

"The princess has had a long morning," Tarj said as he suddenly stepped in and took Arlesse's arm in a gentle grasp. "She'll be okay after some rest."

The trooper nodded in what seemed like gratitude for not having to deal with the civilian woman. However, Tarj heard him mutter softly, "Civilians," and he knew that whatever kindness the trooper was demonstrating was nothing more than what he was ordered to offer.

Arlesse felt Tarj pull her down the hallway and bring her to one of the adjourning rooms. She looked around quickly enough to recognize that she was in one of the servant's dining rooms. The small table and set of chairs were humble in comparison to the setting that was in the grand dining room.

And, for a moment, Arlesse had a vivid memory that took her away from Harkin and the kiss she had been gently forced to share with him.

She remembered being a child of no more than seven years sitting at the small table with her short legs swinging off one of the chairs that she sat upon. There was a small slice of RubyFruit pie before her, and she smiled with every forkful of the sweet dessert that she joyfully ate. Udi was moving about the dining room putting together a dinner plate with the meal she had cooked earlier in the evening for one of the many visits that Vollan had with Janelle's family. It had been a wonderful evening by the adults' standards, but Arlesse was lost in the political conversations while Janelle smartly offered opinions and suggestions that seemed much older than what a nine year old should be capable of comprehending. Arlesse knew that it wasn't because Janelle was intelligently gifted, but simply because she was exposed to that kind of life whereas Arlesse wasn't forced into lessons of politics like Janelle had been. When Arlesse had offered that she liked to read the flimsi of myths and fables and that her favorite one was about a tamed nexu who had brought its master much fortune and the love of a princess, everyone merely smiled in silence as though she was a simple peasant girl. Only her father engaged her in the conversation and asked why she liked the story so much. Arlesse's answer had been because the nexu was clever and sneaky and gave a chance to a man who otherwise had nothing in his life. Afterwards, Vollan promised Arlesse that he would read the story to her before she went to bed that night.

After dinner, Arlesse decided to wander into the kitchens and find Udi. She didn't want to continue being uncomfortable around her extended family and that was when Udi made a dinner plate for herself and brought out the pie for Arlesse.

They talked for what seemed hours at that point in her life, and Udi gladly wanted to hear all about the stories that Arlesse had read in her favorite flimsi-novel. Udi had heard them many times herself as a child and together they talked about which ones they liked best and which ones they didn't like at all.

Bringing her eyes up from the table and the chair that still was in good shape nearly thirteen years later, Arlesse turned to an unmasked Tarj as though finally able to focus on him while the nightmare of Harkin's seduction subsided.

"Why didn't you protect me?" she asked quietly.

Tarj rubbed his forehead. He had spent more than enough time now in these political circles that he understood more than any trooper should about royals and their dramas. But, this time the drama needed to be played out, and the princess truly needed to understand what would be at stake. He might have been a naïve clone once in his life, but living amongst these supposed-elite people had taught him more than his share of deception. He was protecting more than Arlesse now. He was protecting Jas, especially if his _vod_ suddenly stormed in with the intent to take her away. Arlesse had to be absolutely certain that she wanted to take the chance to escape when it arises and not hesitate because of Harkin's manipulations. Tarj knew he was being nothing but a sick _shabuir_, just as he had told Harkin, but it was the only way for the princess to know with whom her feelings truly were.

"Did you really need my security?" Tarj asked quietly, watching the regret rise to her irises, making them more gray than blue.

Arlesse sat suddenly in one of the chairs as her eyes dropped to the tabletop, and looked at nothing that could be seen. Her shaking fingers were the results of her sadness and anger. She felt the strain in her voice, frustrated that Tarj had left her to fend for herself. "You promised me you wouldn't let him…"

"Would you wonder about Harkin for the rest of your life?" Tarj interrupted suddenly.

At that, Arlesse's eyes snapped to him, and she felt nothing but confusion. "I don't understand."

"In my silent wanderings, I have heard much in your home. Women ranging in rank from servants to the wealthy guests who have passed through have each expressed their desires for Harkin. I know you've heard it yourself, and there are a number of ways the psyche reacts to hearing others admire someone. For example, we had heard for years how the Jedi were invincible and righteous, and we believed in them. Some of my brothers even befriended them in personal ways. Then when Palpatine commanded us to slaughter them as betrayers, confusion swelled through the ranks of those who shared relationships. The others simply did as instructed and followed their orders. I'm one of the lucky ones who didn't have to make that decision, but I had sided strongly with the Jedi as good people. I don't know if I would have if I wasn't exposed to those opinions."

Arlesse felt her eyes drop from Tarj and looked again to the empty tabletop for a long moment. Did he really believe that she had begun to admire Harkin simply because of the rumors and gossip that had passed through the palace? Did Arlesse begin to feel compassionate towards Harkin because she was trying to compete with all the others who would have taken that moment without regret?

"I never was with Harkin," she said quietly, her forehead creasing in thought and memory. Then, she looked up to Tarj and felt the truth of it in her eyes. "I was with Jas. I lived a memory of Jas while Harkin..."

Arlesse felt her words stop, embarrassment and regret overtaking her again.

"Then, I must know, _Vod'ika_. Do you have any doubts – any at all – about where your affections lie?" Tarj asked carefully.

Arlesse swallowed hard, hearing the dangerous tone in her guardian's voice. She felt her heart rushing at the thought that he would dare accuse her of disloyalty to Jas. And, she knew that if anyone else had been witness to that moment with Harkin, her engagement would have been even further lost than the verbal annulment Harkin had already told her. She closed her eyes against that scenario, forcing the sting in her eyes to remain unshed.

Tarj moved closer to her and lowered his voice so it was soft, concerned. "If you have any doubts," he told her, "Then, I would lose not only you as my sister, but I would also lose my brother because when he comes for you, he will risk his life for nothing."

Arlesse felt the betrayal strike her again like a slap across her face and carefully thought back over the kiss that Harkin shared with her. She had told the moff no from the start, and she knew she should have fought harder. Now she realized that her curiosity had nearly destroyed a year's worth of waiting, but the strength of the loyalty deep within her, the strength that Jas had once seen, had been what saved her from fully bending to Harkin's kindness. It was that strength that whisked her out of that moment with Harkin and into the one with Jas. And, she suddenly realized all that she would have lost just because of one moment of curiosity, one moment where Harkin had found her at her weakest.

Opening her eyes finally, she brought them to Tarj, seeing the same face that Jas shared. Taking a deep breath, she focused on Tarj, noting all that was the same between him and Jas. Confessing to Tarj, she told him what she wished she could tell her absent knight. "I love Jas, and I don't want to lose him. Please don't let Harkin do that to me again."

Tarj nodded, satisfied with the depth of truth he found in her eyes. She was once again the young woman who had said goodbye to his brother in the hangar the day that Crimson departed. Tarj could see that Harkin was able to dangerously manipulate the naïve princess, and now that her curiosity for another had passed, Tarj would be certain she was right beside Jas the moment he returned for her.

"Then we need to find a way to keep Harkin distanced from you even when in close proximity," Tarj told her quietly. "Distractions will grow old quickly, and we need to be more clever now."


	26. Chapter 25

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again for everyone's reviews! Honestly, I had thought this chapter was ready to go a couple weeks ago. Then, as I read through it for a proofreading session, I saw far too many holes and couldn't release it. Sorry for the delay it's caused, but I couldn't – in good faith – post something that was only half done.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 25**

_The responsibility of the palace guardian is solely for the preservation of the royal bloodline. Many before you have sacrificed everything, including their own lives in order to ensure harm does not befall the royal family. Before taking the same oath that our ancestors had, you must be certain that the time for questions and hesitation is long past. Provided that you are willing to accept the potential that your life may be sacrificed for your leaders, please step forward and recite the oath to your sovereign that will finalize your commencement to a palace guardian._  
Excerpt from the palace guardian inauguration ceremony

**87 Days after Order 66  
****Tochin Moon III**

Chora Wsau scrolled through the datapad that contained the latest inventory to be received. It wasn't the kind of job she had been trained to do, but it wasn't difficult and it kept her busy. She had never anticipated that after graduating from months of rigorous physical and mental training and spending years in his majesty's service that she would end up confined to some flimsi-novel shop. Balancing budget ledgers and maintaining inventories amounted to meaningless work in her eyes, especially when compared to the busy life she once lived as a palace guardian.

Taking a moment to mentally relive her past as a royal bodyguard and soldier, Chora found herself fighting distraction and unable to wholly concentrate on the shipment of flimsi novels that had been delivered to the shop earlier today. She often felt her thoughts reminiscing about the cycle of events that led her to this moment, but today those memories were particularly strong.

Recalling the past, Chora thought about the Separatist scheme that had led to Princess Arlesse's kidnapping nearly a year ago. The original owner of the shop, Norr Hudin, had been tried for conspiring with the Separatists and was imprisoned for the rest of his life. Thorough interrogations and investigations, led by both Davi Saun and herself, had found that Hudin had taken a large sum of credits to assist the mercenary, Qotan Hazar. It was tyranny in one of its highest forms, and the jury that had been chosen to hear the case offered no sympathy to Hudin. It was only because of Hudin's aged status that he was not simply executed. The jury had decided that living in prison would do more for Hudin's punishment than being easily executed and sent to his eternal rest sooner.

Chora's brother, Fernin, had then bought the business during the shop's foreclosure period, and he managed to keep it striving despite the previous owner's marred reputation. Under the new management that Fernin provided, the business had boomed because the structure now held an adventurous history and had caused much interest for the people of Tochin.

Davi and Chora had remained in contact after Moff Harkin had disbanded the palace guardians. They decided to make themselves hidden amongst the townspeople, taking on roles that allowed them to blend in with the common folk. While Davi presented himself as a hopeless wanderer who had no idea what to do with his life, he used that to his advantage to study the increasing amount of Imperial off-worlders who came and went through Tochin's main town. Chora kept herself concealed in the shop, meeting the people on a more personal level. It was a way for her to conduct her own interviews of the Tochinites to learn who was still loyal to their old ways and who had accepted the new Empire.

Davi and Chora hadn't any idea yet as to if they could ever stage a coup against the Empire, and after King Vollan's execution they knew any kind of revolt would end just as swiftly. They chose instead to wait, to silently observe how the way of life on their world was changing. They knew one day an opportunity would arise where they could overturn the Empire's reign, but it was safer to just lay in wait until that time and make mental lists of their enemies and their supporters.

In a strange turn of events, Davi had held a meeting with her three nights ago, and even though they had no plans to launch the revolt they yearned to lead, neither could resist the opportunity that the cloned commandos presented to them. Both Davi and Chora knew then that they would find no better opportunity to serve the monarchy, especially since their oath of protection to the royal family had become useless while away from the palace. The former guardians had committed themselves now to freeing from the Empire the last surviving member of Vollan Psach's bloodline, and even in their short meeting with the clones, something about them led Davi and Chora to trust that these commandos would keep the princess safely hidden from the Empire's clutches.

In order to set the plan in motion, though, Chora knew that she had to get her brother and his family safely away from town and make certain that they would be cleared from the tyranny that would be taking place. Insisting that she could manage the shop by herself, Chora spent the previous day convincing Fernin of her competence by handling every last menial task with his minimal supervision. By the evening, Fernin was convinced that his shop would be in safe hands, and he left that morning with his family on a weeklong vacation rather than just the day he had originally scheduled. He was relieved that he could finally take the time off that he had been complaining he never got to take. Deciding to splurge a portion of the shop's recent profits, Fernin took his family to one of the resorts in the far hills, where he would proudly register their names as guests in the expensive resort's records. Chora felt her own relief at his want to indulge, as she knew that their names in a registry's database would ensure their safety in case the clones' insane scheme went horribly wrong.

Chora glanced up briefly from the datapad and marked everyone's positions with her eyes before appearing busy behind the counter again.

Davi slowly moved about the shop, pretending to scroll through the different shelves as he watched out the windows. The clandestine meeting he had the other night with Chora and the former commandos had showed him just how insane and clever these clones were. During their stay in the palace, Davi had a hard time defining them as more than just soldiers who got in his way and caused upheaval in his routines. However, he saw that these two men, who maintained their roles of Bhen Shipley and Cabur, were not anything like the average trooper he had seen all too often. He came to realize that these clones were molded more like that insane bodyguard, Tarj, and Davi's previous misconceptions about an army made from the genetics of one single man was entirely wrong.

Dusty also wandered through the flimsi-novel shop, flipping through a reference volume that was full of colorful pages describing in vivid details Tochin's history. He had found the pages were packed full of fascinating facts and information, and he began to regret that the Empire had destroyed every chance of them settling on this world. Maintaining his land-buyer role, Dusty decided to keep his interest in the reference material he carried by appearing wholly engrossed in the pages. He felt his eyes glance up from the pages every few minutes so that he could take his own personal inventory of the shop, checking that everyone was still in the marks where they agreed they would be.

Occasionally, one of the citizens would wander into the store and peruse through the shelves of stories or reference materials. At least twice since the early morning, Chora had been called from her position to help one of the patrons, but Davi was quick to cover her position and her vantage point. Dusty found himself slowly gaining respect for these two former guardians and the meticulous ways they complimented their actions. It was reminiscent of Crimson, but Dusty forced that comparison aside. He did not want to dwell on Gath and Mouse's absence right now, even though he would have preferred their company. He needed his mind on what was happening around him, not living in a time that was long gone.

Jas had concealed himself away in the back room and took a position amongst the partially opened crates where he would not be seen upon entering the room, but he could watch the doorway to the shop. The lights weren't dim, but they weren't fully bright either. They illuminated the room just enough so that the inventory could be easily seen, and the words on the flimsi pages could be scanned over for manufacturing flaws.

Jas breathed heavily, somewhat nervously for a moment. He was the last line of defense for this insane scheme, but he was the first place where _Les'ika_ needed to be brought. He just hoped that she wouldn't resist entering the inventory room. His heart sunk at the idea that the previous owner had taken advantage of her innocent curiosity by leading her into a trap in this very setting, and he had no way to forewarn her this time that this room did not hold that kind of frightening ordeal again.

Jas swallowed down that spark of guilt he felt for having to trick _Les'ika_, but he knew that to forewarn her of his presence could potentially cause a disruption in the plan. He knew he could do nothing now but just sit and wait and hope.

**87 Days after Order 66  
****Tochin Moon III**

Arlesse kept her hands folded before her and her head down as the speeder moved along through the wide streets of Tochin's main town. In the past, she had always looked eagerly out the windows, watching the life of the people on her world as she sped past. She used to enjoy watching the families out on their shopping sprees, and she often stared with wonder at the bustle of the crowds as they moved about the busy town. There was a time that the people used to stop and gaze at the hover car as though trying to see which of the nobles had ventured into their humble realm. Even now, after the Empire had invaded her world and brought with it a new way of life, she could see from the corner of her eye that the citizens continued to remain curious about who in the Empire was willing to venture out into their ordinary town.

Arlesse also got the sense that the journey into town seemed even longer than she could remember, but she didn't dare lift her eyes. Sitting directly before her on the cushioned bench was Moff Harkin, and his attempts to make verbal and physical contact with her continued to turn her stomach. She had seen yesterday that a decent man was somewhere beneath the politician's exterior, and she was more frightened of him than she was the politician. She feared that this decent man would finally succeed in earning her affections, and she had already betrayed Jas once. She refused to allow that to happen again. Jas had fought as a soldier for freedom in the galaxy, fighting to keep her world safe, even though he was light-years away from Tochin. And while Jas fought and probably suffered from injuries he didn't tell her about, Arlesse was certain that Harkin had done nothing but sit in a cushioned office during that horrible war. Jas had earned so much more than her heart, and she still regretted that in one moment, she had nearly lost him to her juvenile curiosity.

Tarj sat beside Arlesse on the wide seat but he had remained entirely professional in his role as a bodyguard. He wore his helmet, speaking occasionally whenever he felt that Harkin was pushing too hard on the princess. Keeping his words to a minimum, Tarj never offered anything more than relaying distance markers or particular landmarks on their journey, but it was enough of a hint that Harkin halted in his occasional pursuits of trying to touch the princess' hand.

Gillard was aware of the blockade that Arlesse and her bodyguard had orchestrated against him. Yesterday, he had seen that the princess could be gently persuaded and his time with her had carefully reminded her that she had a chance to continue her life despite all that had been lost. Gillard was certain that if Tarj wasn't present in the close confines of the speeder, Arlesse would at least talk to him. However, Gillard knew that Tarj had a duty to her safety, and to remove him from her protection would endanger her for now. Soon, though, Gillard would have no choice but to find a suitable replacement. Tarj's altered genetics were only going to last for a few years longer, and besides that, there was always the concern that Tarj might actually have to give his life to protect her.

Gillard breathed silently now and decided that he would relent his efforts to make any further advances on Arlesse until they were back at the palace. While amongst the public, however, if it became required that they show some kind of effort to be united, he would just have to make certain she had no choice but to give her people the hope that their two worlds were gradually merging.

The speeder had finally slowed down to a stop, and Gillard glanced out the windows taking note that their destination had been reached. Eight stormtroopers filed out of the vehicle that was before them and another vehicle behind them had another small contingent of stormtroopers. The sixteen men that comprised of Gillard's personal garrison all took their places around the shop, some studying the crowd that had developed and some facing the direction of Gillard's hover car.

The curious crowd now took notice to the royal entourage, and they slowly and carefully began assembling themselves around the stormtroopers who were guarding Moff Harkin.

Tarj decided to take advantage of the moff's distraction while the townspeople gradually surrounded Harkin and his stormtroopers. He slipped out of the hover car and gently pulled Arlesse with him, snaking her behind the back of the vehicle. He made certain that he stayed like a close shadow on Arlesse as they moved from the hover car towards the shop.

In the mere moments that it took them to exit the vehicle, Tarj had seen that the large crowd of townspeople now easily outnumbered the stormtrooper garrison. Just from a quick visual survey, Tarj estimated about eighty people had flocked to the moff, surrounding both Harkin and his stormtroopers as the soldiers attempted to shield Harkin from the crowd. Tarj heard a multitude of questions being shouted out all at once by the citizens. He didn't put much thought into their inquiries, but he heard that some of those questions were political in nature while others were seeking details about his upcoming nuptials to Arlesse.

Strangely, the crowd wasn't argumentative, but curious as though wanting to know what would happen to them now that everything they had taken for granted for centuries was gone.

Tarj continued to keep Arlesse away from the townspeople, doing his part to keep her separated from Harkin before the moff decided that he wanted her by his side while addressing the multitude of Tochinites. Silently, Tarj hoped that if Jas was going to make any kind of rescue attempt, he would do so long before Harkin finalized the plans for his marriage to Arlesse. Tarj wasn't entirely certain how much longer he would be able to keep Harkin separated from the princess, and it was just a matter of time before Harkin had enough of her detachment before he sought her closeness in more cunning ways.

Pushing behind the crowd and noting that they were more awed by Moff Harkin than Princess Arlesse, Tarj quickly led her into the shop. He felt her pause to look at the scene behind her, but Tarj placed a hand on her back and urged her to continue. He knew that the faster they moved, the less likely it was that Harkin would stop them and force her into the discussion.

Stepping inside the shop, Tarj saw that there was another small crowd of people, most of whom he quickly inventoried as being patrons and workers. He instantly noted, however, that none of them appeared younger than their mid-twenties and none of them were older than their early forties. He thought it curious that the people were aged so tightly, despite the different clothing they all wore to signify their wide range of ranks in the society.

A man and woman who appeared of noble bearing moved about the far corner of the shop while a couple younger men in farmers' clothing passed by chatting idly. Tarj's eyes caught sight of a man that looked oddly out of place with red his hair and sophisticated clothes. Tarj quickly identified him as an off-worlder, as his clothing was not typical of the styles that the Tochinite people were known for wearing. However, Tarj paused in his observation as though this man's mannerisms seemed strangely familiar. Then, Tarj shifted his attention knowing that he still had a roomful of people to assess.

A wandering older man was dressed in a haphazard array of farmers' clothing, and the outfit looked out of place on him, almost as though his clothing was as lost as he was. After a moment, this man brought his attention to the princess, and despite the flash of pity crossed his stern features, Tarj instantly felt himself go on edge. Only a fraction of a second later did Tarj understand his concerns as he recognized that this man was Davi Saun. Quickly remembering all too well their arguments in regards to Arlesse's safety, Tarj reflexively clenched a fist and forced himself to avoid giving Saun the broken nose he felt the man deserved.

Distracting Tarj from his want of revenge, a woman stepped towards him, and her clothing was above the standards of the farmers but not quite enough to signify nobility. Her dull orange, shin-length skirt brushed loosely against her dark brown, knee-high boots. Her off-white shirt was long-sleeved, and absent from it were decorations and adornments. The dull-orange vest that matched her skirt was also without embellishments as the clothing was more for work than socializing.

The woman's long, dark hair was loosely pulled from her face and held in place with a couple of brown strings, the style more practical than ornate. Tarj noticed that the locks of her hair were straight, and it took him a few seconds before he recognized Chora Wsau without the severe bun that she always wore behind her head.

Her smile was self-deprecating, and she shrugged her shoulders loosely. "Didn't ever expect to see me like this, did you?"

Tarj felt his words strangely stumble while in Chora's presence. It was the first time he ever saw her – not as a soldier anymore – but instead as a…woman. He had grown accustomed to her as an equal, a trained warrior much like himself. Civilian clothes somehow made her seem…different. He could see that she was far from helpless, though, as her dark eyes were strong and cunning. He wondered why he never noticed that her irises could also be kind and gentle. Tarj felt his eyes lingering over the way her loose hair changed the shape of her face, making her appealing on some level he had never experienced before.

Suddenly pushing the insanity of such thoughts aside, Tarj knew his priority was to Arlesse, and he forced his eyes to catch sight of Saun again, this time noting that the man had moved about the room and seemed to be keeping track of the scene outside.

Bringing his attention again around the room, Tarj slowly began recognizing the faces as those who were once palace guardians. It appeared now that everyone in the shop was once a palace guardian in some capacity. The young farmers were the last of the new recruits and the man and woman who made up the noble couple were the weapons instructors. The others were guards in various competences, who Tarj had seen in passing throughout the palace, and now he was certain that the guards had somehow used the crowd outside to intentionally orchestrate a separation between Arlesse and Harkin.

Tarj looked towards Chora wanting to question what kind of plan had been established when she gently took Arlesse's elbow in her hand and led her towards a side door. "Come with me, Highness, I have something that I know you've been waiting for."

Tarj tried to step forward as he saw the princess turn back towards him, uncertainty and concern in her blue eyes. However, before Tarj could continue, the red-headed off-worlder stepped into his path.

"I'm hoping you can help me," he stated. "This reference material states that there are supposed to be four _ge'tal_ roses in bloom, but in my experience only two had survived the harvest."

Tarj wanted to push this strange man out of his path so that he could continue in his pursuit of Arlesse's safety. However, the one single _Mando'a_ word struck him oddly, and it forced him to pause. He found himself taking a moment to absorb the remainder of the sentence around that one word, and as he mentally studied the off-worlder's statement, he began to clearly understand that there was a hidden meaning.

"Fierfek," Tarj whispered as he slowly decoded the sentence, realizing that each word had been purposefully and carefully chosen. Whoever this off-worlder was had just told him something significant about four red roses…or rather four crimson soldiers. Tarj didn't need some Republic Army decoding manual to figure out the rest of the message. It was abundantly clear now that the off-worlder was trying to tell him that two of Crimson Squad had perished at some point during the regrouping efforts at the end of the war. Piecing together the events that were quickly unfolding before him in this shop, Tarj knew he was in the midst the remaining two former Crimson Squad brothers.

Switching his helmet mic to mute so that none of the other Imperials would hear his conversation, Tarj suddenly removed the helmet from his head and brought his eyes to this off-worlder. He tucked the helmet under his arm so that his hand covered the goggles, and it was not entirely unlike the many ways he kept the goggles of _buy'ce_ from watching his conversations with Arlesse. It was his way to hide what was being seen or heard, just in case the Imperials had some way to use his helmet for spying on Arlesse or him.

"_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_, Gath and Mouse," Tarj said softly, as his eyes bore into the red-headed man, knowing that if this truly was Dusty he would understand without question the vow that Tarj had just made to remember his fallen brothers.

"Let's mourn later," Dusty replied as he pushed aside that guilt and emptiness yet again. He knew he needed time eventually to allow his anger and resentment to explode so that he could stop feeling so much grief, but while he was in the midst of a mission, this was not the time for that. He decided instead to swallow down the pain and allow his disarming but annoying grin to light up his face.

Tarj saw the smile that the off-worlder offered, and despite the contacts and the dyed hair, Tarj clearly saw the humble arrogance that Dusty was so skilled at portraying. Knowing he was in the company of someone he trusted, Tarj shifted his eyes towards Arlesse and Chora again, watching the former guardian open the side door. When Chora didn't follow the princess into the room, Tarj moved to step forward again.

Dusty caught him by the arm gauntlet and stopped him. "You guarded her well, _ner vod_, but now she needs her knight."

Tarj felt himself suddenly relax for the first time in nearly a year, his shoulders finally falling loose. "She didn't want to give up on him, but Jas needs to know that Harkin is slowly breaking her."

Dusty closed his eyes for a brief moment and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, hoping suddenly that they were able to get here in time. If Jas lost _Les'ika_, it would devastate him in ways Dusty didn't want to think about. Just the thought of being with her again one day had motivated Jas in ways many of their fallen and lost brothers had never understood.

Opening his eyes, Dusty sighed quietly and glanced towards the door where Jas was waiting for his girl. He thought back to the day they left Tochin and the way Jas and _Les'ika_ looked at each other before they were separated. Feeling a new sense of purpose, Dusty's voice was certain and determined. "Harkin won't enjoy the opportunity to break her. You and I have work to do, and the people will only be able to keep Harkin busy outside for just a little while longer so we must move quickly."

**87 Days after Order 66  
****Tochin Moon III**

Arlesse hesitantly moved beyond the door where the woman had led her. As she heard the door close behind her, she spun, hoping that Tarj was still with her. When she didn't see him, confusion overcame her, and she stepped back towards the direction of the entrance.

Without warning, weight came across Arlesse's waist, pulling her close to someone while the rough material of something strong covered her mouth. She wanted to scream and tried to push aside the grasp that suddenly had her immobile. Her hands tried to pull the blockage from around her mouth, flashbacks suddenly erupting to her abduction over eight months ago. She felt the tears of terror welling in her eyes, wondering who was behind the attack this time, and she felt the lump in her throat threaten to close off her breathing.

"_Les'ika_," a voice so familiar in its accent whispered.

Even though the hollow metallic sound of the voice being spoken was through a helmet microphone, Arlesse knew of only one man who would say her name in such a manner. She had told no one else of the name that Crimson used to address her, not even Tarj.

"It's me," he finished softly.

Terror instantly turned to relief and the tears rolled slowly, not from fright but from a deeply imbedded joy. Arlesse tried to take a breath, but it resulted in a choked sob. The lump in her throat swelled with guilt, becoming a painful pressure against her breath.

Jas moved his hand from her mouth, sure now that _Les'ika_ was past her moment of surprise and potential scream for help. He kept his arm around her waist, holding her tightly pressed against his armor. He had longed for over eight months to see her again, to touch her. Now that he had, he was still encased in cursed armor, his hands still layered in gloves. With his free hand, he removed his helmet and set it onto one of the unopened crates of merchandise. His armor was no longer Katarn armor in the style of the Grand Army of the Republic. He was now dressed like a Mandalorian, and some would call him a mercenary, a man for hire. However, Jas knew otherwise. The armor and his allegiance were different, but he was still _Les'ika's_ knight, the man who had vowed to protect her and love her. She was always his _chosen_ duty. No government ordered him to care about her and no Jedi commanded him to fall in love with her. His affections for _Les'ika_ came solely from his own choosing, and he was more than willing to make it his duty to keep her safe for the rest of his life. Nothing mattered to him ever but returning to her and protecting her.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, leaning toward her hair and taking in the flowery aroma. The scent alone transported him back to the forests of Tochin so many months ago, where he was surrounded by this world's natural floral perfume. In just a mere second, he had relived that fateful rescue and every moment in that week, including the kiss they shared under a star-lit lake that had connected them in a way deeper than he ever thought was possible.

Arlesse closed her eyes, aware of the warm streaks on her face, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. She needed them there, needed them to make this moment real. She was tired of the fantasies and the dreams about how Jas had come back to her. She wanted to believe this time was authentic.

Her voice came out soft and broken, the emotions choking her words. She thought of that moment yesterday when Harkin had seduced her and how in her mind she had betrayed Jas. Had she known then that Jas would be holding her today, she would have fought harder, resisted stronger. She breathed hard and felt her body tremble with regret for what she nearly allowed to happen.

"Harkin told me you were…" she paused almost afraid to say the word, but knowing that she had to get past her greatest fear, "he said…you were dead. He…"

Arlesse felt Jas' arm hold her tighter, his large hand grasping the material of her lavender gown, refusing to lose her again. She sucked in a breath, fighting the guilt that threatened to consume her over Harkin's attempts to break her resolve. She knew she had to continue to hope that Jas would absolve her of her disloyalty.

"Harkin said you…that you couldn't come back, and you'd be killed for trying. I began to…" the words got stuck in her throat for a second, long enough for her to realize the implications of what she would have lost if she had given in to the moff's efforts more than the one kiss that she had. "He…" Arlesse stumbled on her words again, but she had to push forward with her confession and when the words came, they rushed out of her now, as though if she didn't say them, she would never do so. "Jas, he kissed me, but I don't love him…"

Jas quickly held _Les'ika_ against him as tightly as he could and leaned his chin onto her shoulder so that his cheek brushed against hers. He folded his arms around her, wrapping her into a protective grasp, not unlike the blanket she cherished during their time together all those months ago. The very thought of losing her now after everything he had been through was like a metal spike in his chest. He could hear it in her voice and feel it in the dampness on her cheeks that she still loved him and wanted nothing more than to be with him again. A flare of anger tore through Jas at this Moff Harkin for feeding her such lies about his existence and trying to separate them. Jas knew Harkin didn't deserve her kindness and her innocence, and the moff would never earn her loyalty or devotion.

Jas suddenly realized now in this moment as he held _Les'ika_ that other than Dusty and Tarj, she was the only person he had left from his old life.

"_Les'ika_, everyone's gone. Gan got sick and died…" Jas felt his words fall away as the grief and pain began dragging him down again, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could suppress it so that he would make it through this mission. Being with _Les'ika_ now, even for a moment, reminded him just how vulnerable he was and that he could feel this way around her. He now needed to make his own confession of guilt, to apologize for not saving his brothers, and he knew she would understand. Swallowing hard and feeling the pain of losing his _bav'odu_ as well as his _vode_, Jas spoke his brother's names, something he had avoided doing for so long. "Gath and Mouse…they didn't survive."

Arlesse breathed hard at the child-like agony that was imbedded in Jas' voice. It was no different than the pain that always consumed her for having to see her father die, for having to lose the one man who did everything he could to bring her happiness.

Arlesse couldn't control the way her head hung in grief while her whole body trembled at the truth. She had hoped that Harkin was just fabricating lies about Crimson, telling her horrible things to get her to break. Unfortunately, she now knew that Harkin wasn't lying, and the emotional pain she felt for those two dead men in Crimson Squad was so real because she knew them, truly knew them. She felt worthless again because she could do nothing for Gath or Mouse but mourn them properly.

"Harkin told me, but I didn't want to believe him," she whispered.

She felt her tears run for Gath and Mouse, and she leaned into Jas' cheek aware of the dampness that covered his skin. Arlesse felt her eyes open suddenly and she realized that he needed comfort, too. Jas, like her, needed something to show he was not alone and never would be. He needed to know that his brothers were not forgotten, never forgotten. Arlesse knew she would keep them in her heart and keep them forever in a place where they would be remembered fondly. And, she needed Jas to know that as well. The words came from her lips in a soft voice, hoping she was pronouncing them appropriately. "_Vode an_."

Jas said nothing at her clearly spoken _Mando'a_, but his actions were fast. He spun _Les'ika_ so that she finally faced him. He let his eyes absorb the sight of her, noting every last coil of her hair as well as the softly colored lavender gown ensemble she wore. However, his eyes had only glanced at her physical attributes. It was the emotions in her eyes that had caught his attention, and he could very clearly see that her emotions for he and his brothers hadn't faded with time. Her sentiments were as real now as they were nearly a year ago, and she didn't say "brothers all," as any kind of insult. She said it as an absolution to his guilt for losing them, for having lost those who cared about her as much as she cared about them. Her care packages of RubyFruit and Tochin presents to them were always for all of Crimson, never just Jas, and she had accepted his brothers as her own without question at some point in that forest.

Jas' heart ached and soared in the same moment at the sight of this quiet princess. She always spoke about him being noble and honorable, but she was the one who was noble and honorable. Her actions were always done with virtuous intentions and were well-meant gestures done simply because they were the right thing to do.

Studying her eyes now, Jas realized that the last time he looked upon her, he was saying goodbye. In that palace hangar, far from the few romantic settings he had seen on a holo-screen, he and _Les'ika_ had gotten engaged hastily, having only known each other for a matter of days. How their bond had been so strong, he would never understand, but it spanned the galaxy, and the correspondence they had shared only strengthened their need to be together again.

Jas felt the thin heat on his cheeks and allowed the emotion of the moment to fuel his own tears. He was mournful, joyful, angry, and relieved. He wanted to laugh and cry, and he didn't care if _Les'ika_ saw him in a moment of emotional confusion and weakness. She had earned that right, and he would never allow anyone else to see this side of him.

Facing Jas now, Arlesse quickly noted that his hair was longer than the military cut she remembered, and the thick locks had grown scraggly and wild. Her eyes then fell to the new armor her knight wore, but by the descriptions that Jas and Crimson had told her, she knew it had to be that Mandalorian armor that they had once described. However, her attention on the armor was fleeting, and her eyes had risen back to Jas' face, her concentration lost in the deepness of his eyes. Arlesse could clearly see in his dark irises that the heart of the man beneath had not changed. The multi-colored plating of the armor may have made him look different from the gray armor she was accustomed to seeing on him, but the soldier who was within him had changed. The man whose orders had done their toll on him in the last eight months had undergone experiences that only a war could provide. Arlesse saw that Jas' eyes were not full of innocent wonder, and his face had aged a couple years in those eight months. He looked like a seasoned veteran, a man who had seen too much combat and death. Yet, despite the experienced soldier that shared his body, she could still catch a glimpse of the childlike boy inside.

That child who knew so little of the galaxy and was buried beneath warfare training was confused over the fatalities of Gan and Gath and Mouse, as their losses had ripped his world out from beneath him. Jas now clung to her for stability, for a ground to stand upon that would never disintegrate, and Arlesse came to realize that she looked at Jas in the same way.

She saw how, despite the distance that was between them for so long, that Jas' warmth and love for her had only deepened and grown. She saw that he would take out the entire galaxy if he believed it would get her free of the Empire that had commandeered her planet and stolen her life from her.

Jas touched his hand to her face now, always cursing the glove that stopped his fingers from being able to feel her smooth skin. He silently vowed he would amend that, and they would properly share their lives together. Cupping her cheek gently, he allowed the sweet hunger to fill his chest, the hunger that began the moment they met, and the hunger that had grown to the point he felt like he was starving. He understood what it was now, and before meeting _Les'ika_ he never once thought that in his shortened life that he would learn about love, let alone experience it. Now that he had, he knew how much he needed _Les'ika_ to keep him from starving.

Without any further thought, the words just fell from his lips, and there was no regret or hesitation about it. "_Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde_."

Arlesse felt mesmerized by the sounds of words that she recognized as being _Mando'a_ in nature, but Jas had never told them to her before. She started to ask what they meant when he quickly translated them for her.

"It means: We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors." Moving his hands to grasp hers, Jas decided to explain further, "It's the Mandalorian wedding vow. After you repeat the words, we will be united as husband and wife. It's legal and binding."

Arlesse could see no reason to refuse the bond that they had sought for months. She had come to realize that after Order 66 had occurred, the traditional ceremony she had envisioned for their marriage would never happen. Neither she nor Jas were the kinds of people who wanted a public display of their love, and it was fitting to her that they would take marriage vows in the quiet backroom of a flimsi-novel shop. The only other location she might have found more poignant was the garden at her palace, but it was time for her to take the steps towards being with Jas in reality and not the imaginary world she once thought they would share.

"Help me say the words correctly," Arlesse said quietly as her fingers curled tighter around his. "Help me become your wife."

Jas leaned forward and kissed _Les'ika_ on the forehead before he touched his forehead to hers. Slowly, he spoke each of the phrases, and _Les'ika_ repeated them, taking care to pronounce the words correctly.

After the last word was spoken, Jas was unable to prolong the hunger he had sustained since that day when he left her in the hangar of the palace almost a year ago. He slipped one of his hands from hers and cupped the back of her head, allowing his fingers to tangle into her curls. Closing that small gap between them, Jas kissed _Les'ika_ with the strength of the warrior he had been raised to be but also with the gentleness of a man who knew how to protect the woman he loved.

Arlesse felt liberated for the first time since Gillard Harkin had come to her world, and she reached her hands up to passionately grasp Jas' face. She clung to him as they kissed, her lips just as hungry for his. She pressed back in response to him, knowing that this time she was truly with the man she loved and not a figment of him in her imagination. Growing breathless, Arlesse refused to let go of the man she loved, the man she had suddenly married. And for the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to believe in those rescue fantasies, trusting once again in Jas and that he would find a way to get her safe.


	27. Chapter 26

_Author's Notes_: Ah, holidays. They cause delays in everything, including fanfiction. Seriously, though, I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, and here's to good luck for all for 2011!

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 26**

_My men and I are soldiers assigned to Moff Harkin. Politics and civilian troubles aren't our concern, just doing what we're ordered. The clones before us got personal and involved with civilians, and everyone around them had allowed it. We were bred not to make that kind of error, and to ensure that we don't, we keep our distance from anyone who is not authorized to give us orders. If any of my men don't follow this simple instruction, I have no reservations about sending him to be reconditioned._  
TK-2857, Moff Harkin's Stormtrooper Captain

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Tarj followed Dusty towards the back of the shop, walking past shelves of flimsies. Having a moment to look at the interior of the building through curious eyes rather than the speculative studying of a bodyguard, Tarj was extremely impressed by the expansive variety of sizes and colors that each of the flimsi-novels represented. Skimming briefly at the titles above the sections of shelves throughout the building, he saw everything imaginable from food preparation references to artistically bound stories of romance and futuristic fiction. And, for a brief second, Tarj remembered a few times when Arlesse had offered him some of her novels to read because she was concerned he was bored with being stuck having to guard her.

Tarj realized suddenly that he never did take the princess up on her offers because he wasn't sure what kinds of stories he'd even like to read. He was never given that kind of choice before, and as his eyes moved away from the mystery section, he wondered if he'd be able to solve the authors' fictional crimes before he got to the end of their novels.

Quickly shifting his glance above him, he saw that they were passing through a set of shelves dedicated to artistic references. Not certain why, Tarj paused briefly as he saw an opening on one of the shelves that was near the height of his shoulder. Taking the helmet from beneath his arm, Tarj slipped it into the gap and felt no loss for the Imperial equipment. It would never hold any sentimental value for him or be considered a _buy'ce_ by any standards. Tarj was aware of the way the empty goggles stared back at him, the plasteel eye orbs dark and empty. Even the breathing apparatus below the cheeks was more cumbersome and bulky than practical, and it never filtered out the air with the same quality as his previous Mandalorian-inspired _buy'ce_. Sadly, the HUD within the stormtrooper design was also drastically inferior to his Republic _buy'ce_, and the Imperial equipment lacked the sophistication he had been so accustomed to his entire but shortened life during the days up to and during the Clone Wars.

"Piece of _kyorar_," Tarj grumbled softly, referring to the helmet as a piece of decay, as he realized that he had never seen anything good while wearing the helmet. He had witnessed nothing but heartache on the princess' face and had watched his brothers executed while wearing it. He even watched a man who was a caring father and a decent king lose his life trying to plot a battle for his people's rights and his daughter's safety. Tarj knew now that if never saw or wore the cheaply made piece of plasteel armor again, it would be far too soon.

Feeling his eyes shift quickly, Tarj realized that he had embedded the helmet onto a shelf that contained a series of reference materials that were written to analyze the history and artwork of the ancient Tochin tapestries. Sliding one of the flimsies out of the shelf a little, Tarj recognized the illustration on the cover. It was the same image as the tapestry of the equinine beast that had held Arlesse's attention yesterday in the tapestry chamber.

Knowing that time was short, Tarj decided to delay his escape for just a moment longer, as he needed to know the significance of this particular piece of artwork. He knew he could have asked anyone in the palace about the history behind the tapestry, but he didn't want that kind of speculation and biased opinion about it. He wasn't even certain that Arlesse could provide an explanation without putting her own innocent manipulations into it, especially after Tarj had seen how she studied the tapestry so intently just the day before.

Opening the flimsi pages of the reference volume, Tarj quickly perused through the illustrations until he found the one he sought. The tapestry was entitled, "Defiance," and it was an ancient artist's rendition of the equinine beast that stood in the midst of a battlefield on what was supposed to be the eve of major combat in Tochin's early history. The equinine had always been a revered beast throughout time for the people of Tochin, and the battle had been delayed for three days while a pack of the equinines made their home in the field between the two sides. Rumors had begun in each camp that the equinines had heard of the impending battle and that the equinines were there to enact a truce. The night before the alleged battle was to take place, a storm ripped through the countryside. The lone male equinine had removed himself from the pack of babies and females and stood in defiance of the wicked storm.

When the storm had finally passed, the equinine remained standing where he was, free from harm. The leaders on each side of their conflict were awed by the power of the steed and came to the conclusion that their deities above had given them a warning through the equinine. No battle was ever fought, and the leaders penned a truce at first light of the morning, fearing that if they didn't heed the equinine's example, none of them would survive any battles, and the soldiers feared even more that none of them would live through another of Tochin's vicious storms. It was then believed that peace needed to start with them in order to cease the monarchy's disagreement, and weeks later, the conflicts were put to rest as the leaders on Tochin compromised solutions to their feuds.

Closing the research volume and feeling a taunting smirk on his face, Tarj returned the flimsi to its resting place, but pulled it out enough on the shelf so that it leaned against his helmet. He hoped Harkin would be the one to discover this little setup and realize that defiance wasn't just for the brave and trained like he was, but for the ones who followed their emotions and refused to give up, regardless of the Empire that had more power and influence than any humble princess dared. Tarj thought that Harkin finding this particular explanation on the equinine tapestry would be a fitting and figurative spit in the moff's face, considering that the tapestry room of the palace was where Harkin had learned that Arlesse would not give up on Jas.

"Are you coming or have you decided to become a scholar in your retirement?" Dusty asked, sharing his infamous crooked grin with his brother.

Tarj looked at Dusty and wanted to slap that grin off his face while grasping him in a hug at the same time. He truly missed his brothers, and even if he couldn't be with all of them again, he never grew tired of verbally bantering with Dusty. The two of them were always good at maintaining a decent volley of insults. "Damn it, you're a _di'kut_."

Dusty glanced sideways at Tarj, noting the serious look on his brother's face while a flash of mischief twinkled in his eyes. As they stepped through one last row of flimsies and towards the back entrance that was used solely for deliveries and trash removal, Dusty smiled in response. "That's sweet, _ner vod_. I missed you, too."

Tarj sighed as though frustrated with Dusty's lack of comprehension to his insult while they continued moving. "No, I meant you're a _di'kut_ because this whole _shabla_ plan is never going to work."

Dusty laughed now. "That's because you didn't think of it, right?"

"Exactly," Tarj grumbled, squeezing past a tight set of shelves. Then, the light-hearted moment was gone, and Tarj grew serious again. His tone was strict, his eyes no longer playful. "I don't believe that Harkin is just going to ignore Arlesse's absence. Yes, it's great that you're going to slip her out under his nose like that, but in his strange, political manner, he's grown to care about her. It's not likely that he will simply walk away at her disappearance."

"You mean to tell me that the man who mass executed her family and several of your squad brothers actually has a shred of decency for her?" Dusty questioned, his tone mocking the moff's actions.

"Apparently," Tarj breathed, trying to envision his brothers' insane plan in action while mentally preparing alternative pathways in their escape. He didn't like the idea of having just one exit path, even though there really was no other way that Tarj could think of to do this. He had his mind running for the last few weeks of an escape, and this crazy scheme that his brothers had devised was the best solution he had seen so far. "I think Harkin means well with his intentions for Arlesse, and she had softened him, at least for now."

Dusty turned towards Tarj for a brief second and paused to get his point across with seriousness. "And, that's what worries me. What would happen to her if Harkin changes his affections?"

Tarj grabbed Dusty's shoulder and pressed his fingers in warning. "You can't fail with getting her safe. We can't trust these Imperials. Words are not honor-bound with them like they are with us."

"Believe me, failing is not an option," Dusty replied somberly. "And, if you've got some sadistic idea that you're going to be punished by that Imperial scum for losing her, then get you're head out of the past, _ner vod_. The galaxy changed drastically since the war, and there's no way we're leaving you behind to fend for yourself. You bang out of here with us, and we're going to find somewhere to lay low. We're all going to live the lives nobody ever wanted us to have."

Tarj nodded once in silence, understanding that his brothers' arrival was more than just to bring Jas back to Arlesse. They had a mission that was fully planned out, even if the plan seemed sketchy and not entirely thought out on the surface.

Following Dusty out the back door of the shop, Tarj saw nothing but an overflowing dumpster full of empty crates with a number of them strewn across the ground. Dusty had begun shifting the dumpster aside from the wall where it was stationed. Without waiting for some sarcastic comment from Dusty, Tarj moved into place beside his brother and quietly helped him move aside the strategically placed items so that the hidden storm drain in the ground was now revealed.

"You're really not kidding about this idea, are you?" Tarj asked as he realized that the width of the entrance was just slightly larger than he was.

Dusty shook his head. "I guess you haven't heard anyone in Harkin's circle talk about the underground tunnel system, so now you'll get to experience it first-hand." Moving the grate aside with a quiet grunt, Dusty continued, "Saun had explained to us that it was abandoned about a century ago, after the Mining Rebellion. So, I did some research and it turns out not every king was as humane as Vollan Psach. During that rebellious time in Tochin's history, someone named King Tudane had taken over the monarchy with similar intentions to the Empire. The miners were trying to fight for their basic rights, things like a safer way to do their jobs and enough pay to support their families, but Tudane just wanted a profit. The miners planned to take their fight to the king so they tunneled out all these passageways beneath the town. I decided to see if it was just a legend or if there was any hope to the somewhat-ancient history, and I took an excursion through the passageways. Let me tell you, miners know how to tunnel, and the stability of their architecture shows. The only reason they lost the rebellion was because of a spy in their midst who forewarned the monarchy. Tudane flooded the tunnels, killing a number of the rebellion's leaders, and it killed the morale amongst the miners. They were left with no choice but to bide their time and wait. Lucky for them, Tudane's bad heart took him out a few months later, and there's been speculation about murder on that, but no real investigation was ever undertaken."

"Well, look at you, the Tochin history buff. I had no idea you were one who liked living in the past so much," Tarj responded as he watched Dusty pull out a small communications device from his tunic. "I just thought you were a trigger-happy psycho."

"I _am_ a trigger-happy psycho," Dusty defended, "Who happens to find sadistic joy by reading up on the mistakes of others." He then smiled and spoke into the comlink. "Delivery chute open for business."

A few seconds later, Jas' voice came through the comlink. He almost sounded like he was trying to catch his breath, and for as much as Dusty wanted to say something devious in jest, he decided instead to just be happy that there was finally an honest smile that came across in Jas' two-word reply. "_Package secured_."

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Gillard put his hands in the air before him in a mock sign of surrender. He wore a practiced smile on his face, giving the people around him the impression that he was sincerely interested in their continued barrage of questions and concerns. He had taken on over a dozen questions, choosing each inquiry he answered specifically. He wanted the people to see that he was giving equal attention to everyone from the peasant-like farmers to the wealthier entrepreneurs who were also curious about the future of Tochin.

Normally, Gillard would have craved this kind of attention, being poked at with questions and curiosity as though he was one of those holo-drama celebrities. However, for as much as he enjoyed being put upon this type of pedestal, his thoughts were truly elsewhere. He felt his eyes constantly trying to glance over towards the novel shop where he had seen Tarj escort Arlesse. Even from his distance of over thirty feet from the entrance, he kept trying to peer into the windows to catch a glimpse of the princess. In his plan for this outing, he had envisioned that he would stay by her side and watch her face light up with joy while she excitedly talked to him about the stories she chose to take back to the palace with her. Being with her today was his one chance to bond with her without politics and government obstacles to get in their way. It was supposed to be just the two of them sharing a romantic engagement while he took a walk in her world.

A barrage of questions suddenly came at Gillard, asking him about how exactly he had proposed to the princess and what date they had set for their wedding. Gillard felt a wave of frustration wash over him, but he kept his practiced smile in place, hiding his disappointment that he didn't have his betrothed by his side to play the supportive role he expected of her. He knew it would have done these people some good to just see her there with him, to see that their worlds truly were merging. Instead, he was left alone to ward off the people's prodding questions about wedding plans that he and Arlesse hadn't had a chance to discuss yet. Just getting her to be close to him in any capacity had taken weeks, and he was certain that if he continued in his gentle efforts, the princess' resistance would eventually dissolve until she truly understood that his intentions were well-meant.

Pushing aside his constantly strained relations with Arlesse, Gillard felt his attention perk up at yet another question regarding Tochin's political matters. He debated whether or not he should answer it. After all, he had enough years of practice to ease through answers that talked in circles and offered no real conclusion. However, Gillard decided he had enough of the humble citizens for one day and that it was time to return to Arlesse.

"Please," Gillard said, his smile still far from breaking. Had Arlesse been with him, he might have found the bombardment of continued questions almost comical. This gathering of citizens from all ages and ranks of life seemed more like a curious cluster of younglings to him than a large crowd of somewhat educated adults. Instead of being humored, though, Gillard was becoming impatient, feeling his concern growing over the lengthy separation from Arlesse. He wanted this afternoon to be his and Arlesse's, not that of the entire Tochinite population.

Knowing he had to finally put a stop to this delay, Gillard projected his voice as loudly and calmly as he could. "I assure you, honest citizens, that all your questions have been recorded and taken into account. What I am not able to respond here today will be provided to you in a public announcement within the next few days. Your dear princess is awaiting my attendance, and I have neglected her long enough. So for now, I wish you all a good day."

Gillard then leaned towards one of the stormtroopers, the one with the orange marking along his shoulder pauldron, indicating that he was the captain of the Tochin garrison. Gillard trusted this one the most, even though his designation was merely TK-2857. While the moff had offered a chance for TK-2857 to select a name for ease of communication, the stormtrooper captain had decided against that option rather insistently. The moff found it strange how he realized in this moment that despite using a name, he had always addressed this mass-produced man with his appropriate title instead, having never once referred to him with anything less than that kind of respect.

Whispering now, so as not to draw unwarranted attention to their conversation, Gillard said, "Captain, make me a pathway."

"Yes, sir," the captain replied. He silently issued orders over the internal headset of his helmet and the stormtroopers began gently directing the Tochinite citizens out of the moff's way. The soldiers then began deterring the civilians from stepping closer by raising their blasters and shifting their positions around the moff.

Gillard kept his pace behind the troopers, staying within their close formation. The Tochinite people gave the impression that they refused to break their crowded huddle. They consistently regrouped in every hole the stormtroopers had made, and they began asking even more questions, trying to get the moff to stop in his pursuit of the shop and offer more answers to their concerns.

"Captain," Gillard said as he pushed closer to the leader of his garrison. "Have you been able to tap into Tarj's communications?"

The man designated as TK-2857 shook his head. "No, sir. His helmet has been shut down."

Gillard breathed hard, feeling something chilling developing in the pit of his stomach. He was not blind to the persistence of the Tochinite people, and it was growing more difficult to avoid just issuing orders based on nothing more than unconfirmed assumption. He decided instead to work towards answers that made sense as opposed to making an impulsive and foolish conclusion. "Captain, what would cause something to shut down Tarj's helmet?"

"There are multiple factors," he offered, "such as a technical malfunction, but the easiest explanations are that he either shut it off or someone shut it off for him."

"I know he tends to shut it off when he is around Arlesse," Gillard said, trying to force confidence into his voice. He sincerely hoped that Tarj didn't betray him or his trust and do something stupid like run off with the princess. Then, after a moment, Gillard came to realize that Tarj didn't have any opportunity to arrange any kind of coup against him. The princess' bodyguard was monitored closely while in the palace, and he had no outside contacts. After the palace guards had been disbanded, friendly communication between them and any of the former Republic clones had also been terminated. Gillard was certain that Tarj himself would not be orchestrating any kind of underhanded scheme, but there were plenty of rebellious citizens as well as a number of disgruntled former palace guardians who roamed about the towns. Those were the people Gillard feared most in regards to Arlesse's safety.

Leaning towards the lead stormtrooper again, Gillard asked, "Captain, is there any other way to know if Arlesse is safe within the shop?"

"Tarj's helmet was our sole way of keeping tabs on them," TK-2857 reported calmly. "Communications and tracking devices are incorporated in the helmet design."

"Then, I hope I'm being nothing more than overly concerned, but I'm beginning to suspect that something isn't right if you can't communicate with Tarj," the moff offered. "I feel it best that we should hurry."

"Shall I order my men to shoot these civilians?" the captain asked, a hint of anticipation in his voice.

For all the panic that Gillard felt, he kept calm and simply shook his head. "No. Just in case I am wrong, we don't want to cause an upheaval for which we are not prepared. We need to get to the princess as quickly as you and your men can without starting a rebellion, and we cannot assume that she is safe until we have proven it so."

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Arlesse clung to Jas' hand as he slipped her through the small maze of crates that had hidden the back door to the shop. She was reminded of their time together on Hazar's ship and how she had, at that time, simply trusted this nameless soldier. Thinking back on it for a brief moment, she recalled how she blindly followed him out of Hazar's prison cell, holding his hand like the lost child she had been then. She knew at that time that she had no reason to trust this armored man any more than she had to trust Hazar. However, all Jas had told her all those months ago was that she was going home, and the sincerity in his voice had created a faith in her like she had never experienced before. She had never imagined that Jas' unofficial promise to keep her safe would be the beginning of a shared emotion and that they would grow to be so deeply in love that neither a galaxy's war nor a moff's seduction would prevent them from being together again.

Arlesse felt the fingers on her other hand instinctively brush over the star pendant around her neck. She would swear that the metal radiated heat from the small shell inside it, the only gift that a clone soldier could afford. Just yesterday, the star had felt so cold and foreign, as though she had lost Jas forever, but today the pendant was enveloping her in warmth and protection. Without thought, she squeezed Jas' hand stronger and smiled as his helmet turned to face her.

And then in a matter of a split moment, a new realization struck Arlesse. She didn't think about it until her fingers touched upon her locket, and as her smile faded away, she felt a new emptiness.

"I know I have to leave it all behind," she whispered, her eyes searching for Jas behind that darkened T-visor.

Jas had melted in the reflection of _Les'ika's_ smile, but almost instantly he felt his heart drop to the floor when he saw her smile fade. He suddenly grew worried that Arlesse had developed some kind of regret for her actions earlier by marrying him hastily. It didn't seem likely that she had changed her mind about him, especially not with the emotions that filled her eyes while she looked at him. However, there was no denying that something was deeply troubling her.

Even though she had just confused him considerably, Jas' military training was nagging at him, reminding him that they had no idea what was taking place behind them in the shop. With every passing moment, he feared that Harkin had managed to pry himself away from the guardians and the citizens that had agreed to delay the moff from following _Les'ika_ into the shop.

Jas decided that alleviating _Les'ika's_ concerns right now would prevent further hesitations later, and he paused in their escape for just a moment, taking a few seconds to look into _Les'ika's_ blue irises. He saw how they had taken on a gray hue in the dimness of the room, and he saw that there was something disconcerting in them. Even after months away, Jas was surprised that he could still recognize the little traits about her that cued him into her feelings.

Arlesse sensed that Jas was concerned about getting out while they still could because of the way his hand grew tense around hers. She had no intentions to return to Harkin, but she just needed some kind of assurance from Jas, something to give her hope that those she once loved would never be forgotten.

"It's not all the luxuries I'll miss," she explained. "Jas, I have memories here and objects that help me remember those memories. It's things like the childhood stories that my father used to read to me as well as holos of my family, even if my family no longer exists now. I know that going back for any of those items is too dangerous, but it hurts to sever myself from those pieces of my father. All I have remaining of my family now is the holo of my mother, and all I know about her is that she left us because she followed someone named Djinn Altis to become a Jedi."

Jas looked at _Les'ika_ and felt something that wasn't betrayal for her revelation but it wasn't at all what he would have expected of her. It just made it more desperate that he conceal her from the Empire, especially if she had any Force skills.

Arlesse felt the way Jas clutched her hand tighter, and she realized the further danger that could come to them now if the Empire learned of her blood ties to a Jedi. "Jas, I'm not Force sensitive…"

"It doesn't matter," he told her, concern in his voice leaning towards alarm. "I've heard rumors about the Emperor removing all beings who share any trace of Force sensitivity, even if it's only a genetic trait you carry to be passed on."

Arlesse couldn't hide the panic that was now in her eyes, the very real threat that if Emperor Palpatine ever learned of her mother and traced that connection back to her what kind of danger she would now be facing.

"Where can we go where we'll be safe?" she asked as they moved to stand just before the closed door.

Jas simply took _Les'ika's_ hand and held it against his chest, knowing that they were both about to leave behind every bit of the only lives they had ever known. "We will make our own home. It's what Gan told us Mandalorians do…"

When Jas' words fell short, Arlesse let her fingers grasp tighter to his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Gan left Dusty and me with nothing more than a holo from his final weeks," Jas answered quietly. "It still hurts to see a man who was once so strong be reduced to decaying flesh. I wish I only had my memories of him from my training days. That sickly image of Gan was not how I wanted to remember him."

Arlesse had heard the pain in Jas' voice as he talked about the father figure in his life that she knew so little about. She had something more than Jas ever would and that was memories of a father who was kind, strong, and full of life. Even after her father was executed, his face was still the strong man she had known her entire life. She didn't have the twisted last memory of an ailing person.

Jas shook his head, forcing the grief aside yet again. He needed to make it through for just a while longer before he could fall apart. Getting _Les'ika_ safe was the mission now, and he was not going to lose her because he let the wrong emotions surface when Dusty and Tarj were counting him for their own safety as well.

"_Les'ika_, I don't mean to scare you," he warned gently, allowing his voice to exude some of the military stiffness he would always have in him, "but we need to keep moving."

Arlesse walked with Jas as he turned from her and stepped out into the sunlight of the back alley behind the novel shop. The sun was bright, nearly blinding for a moment as her eyes needed to adjust from the dim room to the natural light. Feeling the shock subside in her pupils, Arlesse repeated her earlier question. Her voice was mixed with child-like curiosity, as she could not contain her concern for their future. "Where are we going?"

"Home," Jas answered, saying nothing more.

For Arlesse, that answer was all she needed, and as her memories flashbacked to that escape on Hazar's ship, she knew this time Jas would stay with her and not have to leave again because of orders. He was a deserter to the Empire and had made that choice so that he could remain with her rather than become a soldier for a dictatorship that had no compassion for him. Jas' choosing of her was the most devoted decision he could have made, and it only strengthened the vow he had taken months ago to be her knight. Arlesse couldn't imagine any other man choosing the difficult path that Jas had, but he was the only man she could ever imagine selecting it.


	28. Chapter 27

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews! **Spoodles**, **Queen**, and **Gotta Dance 88**, I'd be lost without you there for me every chapter. You have really encouraged me to not leave this story unfinished, and you have my sincerest gratitude. _Tarj fans: this chapter's for you!_

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 27**

_You took an oath to be one of us, and outside distractions lead to sloppiness. If you wanted a normal life, you should have stayed a civilian. Here, we don't have the time or the luxury for courting. Your sole obligation is to the royal family, not finding a mate. If you find you changed your mind and want to live the home life, you tell me upfront, and you'll receive an honorable discharge, but you'll forfeit ever being one of us again._  
Davi Saun reiterating the relationship policy with newly sworn-in palace guardians

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Dusty looked up after he had moved the tunnel grate aside, his eyes catching Jas and _Les'ika_ as they exited the building and moved towards him. Dusty saw how obvious it was that _Les'ika_ didn't recognize him in his Bhen Shipley disguise just by the way she crept closer to Jas. Dusty watched her eyes then dart towards Tarj as though seeking some kind of approval from the former clone commander before she brought them back to him once more. It reminded Dusty very much of how she reacted when they all had first met after that crash landing in Hazar's escape pod and how she didn't know who to trust due to her sheltering. What didn't help then either was the trauma that Hazar had brought upon her, and now Dusty figured she would always have that skepticism about others. It was the mark she bore from having her life violated, and it was probably the reason why her trust was so pure once someone earned it. Jas had been the only one able to look beyond the title above her head and see past the trauma that she had endured. And, with that thought, Dusty realized why _Les'ika_ had grown so fond of his brother.

"It'll be nice to have my personal RubyFruit chef again," Dusty said with a smile, bringing up something he was certain would spark a memory for her. Just coming out and saying, "Hey, it's me, Dusty," wasn't his style, and he was still determined to maintain his cover just in case something went wrong so that he could at least walk away safely and try to come up with a new plan for getting them free. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to try and _share_ the RubyFruit in those care packages?"

Arlesse felt herself relax now, realizing that only the men in Crimson would know about her RubyFruit and the care packages she used to send. She knew that Gath and Mouse were sadly dead, and that meant besides Jas, only Dusty could have know about the way she cooked the berry-like fruit for them.

Dusty had noticed the way _Les'ika's_ forehead now creased in recognition at his comment; however, his smile couldn't last nearly as long as he would have preferred. He knew as well as the rest of his brothers that they needed to get moving sooner rather than later. "Unfortunately, _Les'ika_, we need to cut this reunion short."

Tarj perked his head at the name that Dusty had used for Arlesse, and he was reminded of the morning that Crimson had to leave Tochin. Jas had just pleaded with him to protect Arlesse, and in doing so he started to say something in reference to her. However, Jas had cut that name off before Tarj could hear it in full, and Tarj had never questioned it again. Now, he knew what Jas nearly slipped on saying that morning. Even Tarj knew during Crimson's mission that their orders were to not address the princess in any way that would allow for recognition of her because of Vollan's fear that it would have sparked interest with any other enemies who might have been lurking. Tarj was curious how they came about the name for her, but he knew there would be a better time to inquire about that later when they were free.

"Now, _Les'ika_, we have a whole new adventure waiting for you," Dusty continued in his gentle way of issuing orders to the young princess by making certain he wasn't harsh with his words. He had learned quickly that a lighthearted way was how she responded best to him, and he knew it would be better for her to relate to him that way again. "The travel brochure offered a chance to experience the world of a mole-ant, complete with all the dirt and rocks you could ever hope to see."

Dusty finished his improvised advertisement with a practiced smiled and moved his hand to grandly gesture at the opening in the ground.

Arlesse glanced towards Jas, and he wasted no time as he moved the two of them closer to the hole. She could feel the urgency in Jas' movements, as he wanted to get as far away from the Imperials as he could, and she could only imagine that it was because of the multitude of things they discussed only moments ago. Between telling him that Harkin had very expertly tried to make her betray Jas and then offering him new knowledge that her mother was a Jedi, Arlesse was certain that Jas was more on edge than he had been when he first reunited with her in the inventory room.

"Always the _mir'sheb_," Tarj muttered from beside Dusty, calling him nothing short of a smartass, as they moved into position to help with getting _Les'ika_ into the tunnel.

"Palace life dulled you down _ner vod_," Dusty chided. "It'll definitely do you some good to get out in the galaxy again."

Jas decided that he would have time for verbal banter after they were all safe, and he took the initiative to move into position at the opening. He dropped to the ground and lowered his legs into the opening. He looked to _Les'ika_, telling her, "I'll go in first and help you down. It's not a long drop, but some of the handholds have disintegrated over time. Also, it's not easy to see much of anything once you're down there."

Arlesse watched Jas disappear, her heart racing at the reality of what she was actually doing. It was probably not the life her father wanted of her, to be a fugitive on the run from the Empire while trying to flee from an Imperial moff whose affections had developed more out of political necessity than anything natural. However, she could also not see her father denying her this choice either. She knew that Vollan Psach had let her mother free out of love for her, and she was certain that if her father were still alive, he would encourage her to leave Tochin and hide from the Imperials before they destroyed her, too.

Tarj's hand on hers awoke Arlesse from her mental wanderings, and the man who had become her bodyguard and her older brother helped get her balanced on the edge of the tunnel entrance. Jas offered up a quietly shouted acknowledgement to let Tarj and Dusty know that he was ready at the bottom of the eight-foot drop. Arlesse allowed Tarj and Dusty to help lower her down into the ground, and when she felt Jas' hands wrap around her waist, the men above released their grasp so that she could lower her arms, finding that they naturally wrapped around Jas' neck.

As Jas brought _Les'ika_ to the ground and the darkness around them, he could only stare at her in the soft glow of his _buy'ce's_ lamps and know that she couldn't see him behind the visor. Jas found there was something intimate about the moment, and realized that his thoughts had become even more emboldened than he had previously allowed. He believed it had to do with the fact that she couldn't see his inexperienced desire to be alone with her developing in his eyes. Becoming _Les'ika's riduur_, her husband, had changed him in a way that made him freer than he had ever known, and this new intense want of her was just one way his thoughts had grown more liberated.

Then, Jas quickly got his thoughts under control and steered them in a direction he often fought to suppress. During the war, it was always too hard to think about being safe with _Les'ika_ in a domicile that they called home. He wanted to envision it and wanted to believe that he would really be with _Les'ika_ in a normal setting like he had seen on the holo-vids or when passing through civilian territories, but he had never allowed the image to cultivate. While on missions, he couldn't take the chance of allowing his daydreams to cause him to lose a brother or himself. However, he knew now that their progress out of the novel shop proved that they were getting just a fraction closer to freedom and his newly developed concept of home. As a result, in this brief moment while Jas held _Les'ika_ close to him and imagined an intimate moment in their future, he found everything about it comforting and peaceful. This was how he defined home, and although he was certain the passion in the darkness that they would eventually share would be even more fulfilling, just being with _Les'ika_ where they would be safe to share laughter, food, and warmth was the vision Jas had finally allowed to believe their home would be.

"What's wrong?" Arlesse asked softly when she felt Jas' hands press tightly around her waist.

"Nothing," he answered, keeping his words quiet as he heard Dusty moving downward from above. "I was just…wasting a moment while I could."

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Tarj stood guard, prepared to stay behind and sacrifice himself if necessary so that his brothers and Arlesse could get safely free. Tarj had argued with Dusty that if he was going to be captured or killed for deserting, he didn't want Dusty's smart mouth and stupid grin joining him in the prison or the gallows. It was enough of a ruse that Dusty relented by saying he was the prettier of the two of them anyway and that Saun was supposed to follow them out to hide the tunnel opening. Then, without any further instructions or teasing, Dusty quickly disappeared into the ground.

Tarj knew it was his turn next, and he didn't totally like the idea of being trapped in a tunnel with few avenues for escape. Still, this was the plan, and Tarj had already tried to think of a new strategy with no success. Dusty and Jas had already run that gambit with the palace guardians they befriended so it was either deal with the tunnel or risk being shot for betrayal to the Empire.

Not bothering to mull over the obvious, Tarj stood before the hole and peered down, taking a deep breath.

"Wait!" a woman's voice called.

It was enough of a distraction that it stopped him from lowering himself toward the opening, and Tarj turned to see Chora Wsau slipping out of the back of the shop. She handed two small flimsi novels to him, practically forcing the objects into his chest.

"Take these for the princess," Chora explained quickly. "She had submitted a request for them, and I just found them in the back inventory."

Before Tarj could do more than stuff the novels into one of his side pouches, Chora had brought her hands to his unmasked face and cupped his cheeks. He felt the calluses of her warm but combat-trained palms and swallowed hard at the cool tickle that rippled down his neck from her touch.

She smiled as she looked at his eyes, and Tarj had never felt so vulnerable before. There was a mesmerizing quality to the moment, as he was able to truly look upon her face and see not a woman in her early thirties, but instead he saw a female whose attraction was not lost in her years of military service. Although her role as a palace guardian was during a time of peace, Tarj was aware of how she always maintained her skills by practicing basic combat and blaster targeting.

Still, Tarj could see that Chora's beauty didn't come from perfect skin and application of cosmetics done artistically like Duchess Janelle had. Instead, Chora was true and genuine, a fighter who did not leave things unfinished. Her features may appear plain to someone who only looked from the outside, but there was something about her that Tarj felt he could see clearly without the distraction of duty and palace life.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time, but…" she told him softly, her words spoken in a low tone he had never heard her use before, a tone which had nothing to do with verbal communication, "now I can finally say 'to hell with the rules.'"

Something in the sound of her voice had disarmed Tarj and caused him to suddenly become lost in nerves he had never felt in his life while an underlying surge of electricity tingled throughout his entire body. Before he could think clearly about what her words meant, Chora's lips were connected to his. Tarj didn't resist the primal instincts of this new awareness as his eyes closed and his lips pressed in response to hers. He could feel that her touch was much more certain than his, and he didn't find the sensations it brought unpleasant in any capacity. Instead, he liked the warmth that coursed through him and the way her palms pressed against his jawline while her fingers reached behind his ears.

After spending his entire life to be a hardened soldier, Tarj found that this woman's touch was incomparable to anything he had ever experienced before. He had no idea how the soft moisture of a woman's lips could engulf his own with tingles of pleasure while he was utterly confused and worried that he wasn't doing any of this properly. However, Tarj was also aware how Chora wasn't releasing her hold, and he figured he must be doing something right or else she would have pulled away by now.

Then, something brought Tarj's senses back, and even though he didn't want to stop this incredible and intense moment, he knew his obligations. Keeping Arlesse safe and helping his brothers get free from Imperial-ruled Tochin was still partly his responsibility until someone ordered him otherwise.

Reaching forward, Tarj gently cupped Chora's face with the intent to ease her back, but paused for a moment, drawing on the new passion she had released in him, and he instead pressed his lips harder on hers. He felt her react with more intensity, and Tarj couldn't deny that he liked the feel of how her face curved into his palms. He could only wonder if this was any of the physical need that Jas often felt for Arlesse, and he tried to imagine how in eight months his brother could live without such sweet contact after having known it.

Thinking of Jas and Arlesse, Tarj knew that his brothers were still waiting for him, and he had to stop the pleasant madness that Chora had brought upon him. This was probably the only kind of romantic knowledge that Tarj was certain he'd ever know in his short-changed life, and he wished he had more time to experience this sensation that Chora had introduced to him.

Fighting against the want to remain embraced, Tarj was determined this time to break away and forced himself to gently maneuver Chora back from him. As he broke the kiss she had initiated, Tarj looked at her and couldn't help the breathlessness that consumed him while he tried to fill his lungs with air again.

He now felt like some kind of insane switch had been turned on inside of him. He wanted to lean back into that strange softness once more and feel the warmth that her lips caused upon his. He wasn't entirely against the surge of heat that exploded from his chest, and he still found it odd how he suddenly saw Chora as more than a female soldier. He wondered why for months he hadn't noticed her smile or the way her body curved like other women's. He was confused about why he didn't fully comprehend why she was so different to him now.

"You need to be careful," Chora told him, trying to hide her embarrassed flush behind an authoritative order. She knew she would never see Tarj again, and she didn't want to force the moment and make it linger longer than it already had. Taking her hands from his face, she gave him a gentle push towards the tunnel to try and make the separation easier.

"You have to be careful, too, Chora," answered a voice that wasn't Tarj's.

Chora spun to see Davi behind them, and she forced aside the awkward moment of allowing her attraction for Tarj to surface. She knew it was uncharacteristic for a palace guardian to openly show affections like that, but because of protocol and duty, she could not romantically socialize with Tarj while employed as a palace guardian. For so long, she had kept her secret allure for the cloned soldier hidden, forcing herself to see Tarj as nothing more than an equal, a soldier with a common duty to keep the royal family safe. Then, when Harkin had disbanded the guardians, she was not welcome into the palace any longer, and she knew any contact she would have had with Tarj had been severed, too.

Now, though, before Tarj was going to be gone forever, she had wanted him to know that for a long time someone other than the princess did actually care about him in a capacity that was more than the innocent kindness that Arlesse had always offered him.

"Your brother and his family are safe," Davi said quickly, giving a glance behind him and checking that the door was still closed. "Thank those crazy clones when you catch up to them."

Chora shook her head, thinking about the conversations she and the other guardians had shared over the last couple months. "But, we are trying to plan for…"

"You've been reassigned, Lieutenant," Davi interrupted as he spun again towards her. His voice now sounded like a soldier who knew how to use his authority, the drunken idiot he portrayed while in town long gone. "We both know that we can't stop the Imperials, not any time soon. Our resources are too low, and a better opportunity might have to wait years. Arlesse is the last of any true royal bloodline, and if her father approved of that clone in the Mandalorian armor as her companion, then we aren't to question it. Remember that our oath states the royal blood needs to carry on. You need to help keep Arlesse hidden from the Empire. The Empire betrayed Vollan, and we can't lose her, too. These clones will keep her safe, but she'll need your guidance, and she'll need your advice…as a woman."

Davi suddenly spun towards the door as though hearing something. "Now, get lost, both of you. Time isn't ours anymore. Harkin's here."

Without thinking and just moving simply on protective instinct, Tarj quickly grabbed Chora by the arm and shifted her towards the tunnel opening. She didn't say anything, but followed the final set of orders she was given from her superior officer. Moving quickly, she disappeared into the tunnel.

Tarj got onto the ground and got his legs into the tunnel when Davi's voice stopped him. "Take care of Chora," Davi said protectively, watching as Tarj looked at him briefly. "She's the best soldier I ever commanded." Davi then paused before lowering his voice a notch. "You should know that if she feels that way about you, do her a favor and don't screw it up."

Tarj wasn't sure how to respond to that. Chora's kiss still left him in a whirlwind of confusion, but now was not the time to ponder what he didn't understand. Unable to say anything, Tarj simply hurried into the ground and saw the light above him suddenly disappear as Davi set the tunnel covering back in place.

Tarj glanced at the tunnel entrance noticing the darkness caused by the garbage receptacle that now covered the opening above him. A bare moment later, he heard the echo of shouting and blaster shots from where he and Chora had just departed. For as much as Tarj hated Saun, in that moment, he actually pitied the man and was grateful for his presence. Deciding that they could linger no longer on this world, Tarj grasped Chora's hand, fighting against the flush that such an action caused in him as he realized she was going with them wherever they were headed. Feeling a very new mixture of both excitement and anxiety, he hoped that the opportunity to explore another kiss with her might not be too insane of a concept.

Then, Tarj shut that thought down as soon as it came while he ushered her through the darkened tunnel. He had to put these odd emotions on hold and try to sort out just what the _haran_ happened a few minutes ago. He had never thought of Chora as unattractive, but then again, he never had any reason to be attracted. They were peers, nothing more than soldiers with a common objective. How could she possibly change that in such a short amount of time by wearing a dress and removing the bun from her hair?

Deciding instead to put all his concentration into their escape, Tarj would have more than enough time later – if they all survived – to answer his questions about Chora, most likely with her participation.

Looking ahead towards the dim light that Jas had illuminated on his _buy'ce_, Tarj forced aside the flush that such thoughts about Chora released and saw that the group before them had paused while they waited for Tarj to rendezvous with them.

"Picked up a stray?" Dusty asked.

"No," Tarj responded, as he kept moving towards his brothers. "An ally."

Chora squeezed his hand gently at his reply, and Tarj again had a feeling of warmth seep out from his stomach and reach to his fingertips. His eyes glanced to the way Arlesse held onto Jas' hand, her body always close to the former commando's armor, and Tarj made it a point to eventually ask Jas how in the galaxy he had survived a week in a perilous forest with his new-found emotions for a princess while feeling like pile of boneless matter.

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Semi-conscious and experiencing the sensation of burning while unable to move his body from artificial paralysis, Davi was more aware of his body being dragged than actually feeling it. He couldn't do much more than be a limp mass of bone and flesh, and if it wasn't for the fact that he got his eyes open quickly enough to recognize the stormtrooper armor, he would see little more than the ground before him.

Moments later, the ground outside gave way to the plasteel flooring of the novel shop, and Davi watched the shelves around him spin out of control until he was left staring up at the ceiling. He remained there unmoving for a few minutes longer while footsteps and voices continued to move about the shop as the Imperials sought out clues as to the whereabouts of the missing princess and her bodyguard.

Awareness slowly crept throughout his body, and Davi forced his head to begin moving. He started with moving his neck left, then right, and as feeling came back to his neck muscles, he craned his head to try and find the blaster shot that hat struck him squarely in the chest. He knew that stun bolts didn't normally leave a mark, but it had been so many years – decades by now – since he went through training, he had forgotten just how miserable of an experience the sensation of a stun-bolt was. He had gotten far too comfortable under Vollan's reign, and that comfort had left him entirely out of practice for physical combat.

Sensation gradually worked its way now down his arms and into his fingers, and Davi was aware of his full weight crushing his bound hands behind his back. Taking a deep breath, Davi tried rolling onto his side as best he could to hopefully alleviate the pressure on his limbs. He got partially to his side when he saw that he was not the only prisoner the stormtroopers had managed to capture.

There were only two younger men who were restrained like him, with their hands bound behind their backs and their awareness slowly coming back into reality. Davi couldn't find any of the other former guardians while his eyes did a search throughout the part of the shop he could see.

After focusing his gaze for a moment on the young men again, Davi realized that they would be sharing with him whatever fate Harkin had planned for those who betrayed the Empire. Davi felt regret for having to see these new recruits be forced the same hand as he would. Both of these young Tochinite men had just barely finished their training and earned the title of palace guardian. Within weeks of their commencement, Harkin had disbanded the guardians, and while Davi knew that they chose this path and any sacrifice it might entail, he felt regret that neither of them would ever have the chance to live in the comforts that Davi had taken for granted. They had taken their oath to service and would find that their time as guardians was taken from them before they could excel at their professions.

Anger taking over more than regret now, Davi needed to try and find some way to spare the lives of such green soldiers. Davi knew he had served his time and he wasted it in comfort, and it was time to remember the oath he had taken when he was their age, when he was still full of courage and enthusiasm.

Shifting positions now, Davi surveyed the other side of the room. With the exception of the stormtroopers and Harkin, the shop was indeed empty. Now Davi was certain that the other guardians had morphed back into the crowds, becoming lost amongst the Tochinite people again.

Gillard Harkin had seen that the men his stormtroopers had imprisoned were coming to, and he wanted to start finding answers. He moved towards the three men, aware of his stormtrooper captain behind him. He was certain that the soldier who was playing bodyguard was planning to thwart any attempt the bound prisoners might make on him, and Gillard would have rather seen this kind of loyalty extended to Arlesse as well. Unfortunately, if they didn't find her soon, he feared that he would never have the opportunity to order TK-2857 to guard those he deemed worthy of such protection.

Feeling his eyes glare sharply at Davi Saun, Gillard recognized the former palace guardian and felt his fists clench as his instincts told him that this man had something to do with Arlesse's disappearance.

Before Gillard could address his prisoners, though, one of the stormtroopers under TK-2857's command came forth. His voice reported without emotion, "Sir, we could find no one else in the building or the vicinity outside."

The moff wanted to lower his head in regret and sadness, his newly growing emotions for Arlesse twisting and churning in his stomach with disappointment. Instead, Gillard knew that submitting to his grief would show a sign of weakness and that was not the way a man in his power should handle this kind of betrayal. His betrothed Arlesse had been swept away from him, her existence vanished like a wisp of smoke in the breeze.

Gillard wondered if he hadn't correctly read Tarj's actions earlier in the hovercar, and what he thought was just protection to Arlesse was actually his way of keeping her from revealing the plan he had conceived to take advantage of their freedom and spirit her off Tochin.

"Captain, sir," another stormtrooper called. "You might want to come see this."

Gillard momentarily pushed aside his anger and the need to interrogate the former palace guardians for the answers he sought. Instead of handling them, he turned towards the direction of the stormtrooper who called for his captain's attention and moved down the aisles. He realized that his curiosity was stronger right now for what was discovered rather than his want to deal with the Empire's betrayers. He feared that a good distraction was needed so that he doesn't simply take a blaster recklessly to the former palace guardians and destroy any chance he would have for a proper interrogation.

"What have you found?" Gillard asked as he approached the stormtrooper in the aisle of flimsi-novels.

"I think it's a message of some kind," the stormtrooper replied as he pointed to one of the shelves.

"This is why we couldn't contact Tarj," TK-2857 elaborated.

Gillard brought his eyes to the shelf with the helmet and the reference flimsi beside it. He studied the arrangement, the deliberate way the objects were laid out. The helmet had been carefully placed beside the illustration inside the flimsi pages. The passage was written in Basic, a language that Harkin and the rest of the galaxy knew well. He began reading through the text, studying the passage carefully and learning how the story related to the tapestry. After a long moment, Gillard's body stiffened as he clenched his fists in regretful disappointment.

"Sir?" TK-2857 asked, aware of the sudden change in the moff's demeanor.

"It is a message, Captain," Gillard responded quietly, suppressing the anger he wanted to release. He really wanted to take Tarj's helmet and throw it across the shop, and he resisted the urge to shred the flimsi pages with his fingers. Instead, the moff was forced to remain stoic and professional, playing the role of the aloof politician.

"Tarj has conspired with someone, and they're defying the Empire," he explained softly, his voice taking on an edge he had never used before. As he felt the anger continuing to consume him, Gillard thought back to just yesterday when he remembered how Arlesse had studied this particular tapestry in the castle. Her eyes had been filled with trust and hope, and it didn't take a Force-sensitive being to see that she was continuing to put her faith in her clone while she mentally lived memories of a time she had shared with him.

"He came back for her," Gillard muttered quietly as a sense of jealously grew within him like a sickness that wouldn't let go.

The stormtrooper captain cocked his head in curiosity. "Sir…?"

Spinning towards the stormtroopers that had been standing behind him, Gillard forced himself to remain under control, despite how he felt the fury grow for being made a fool. He had underestimated Arlesse's clone and her devotion to him. He thought removing the palace guards and keeping close tabs on Tarj would have prevented this kind of blunder, and now Gillard had no one to blame but himself. He trusted Arlesse, and he trusted her guardian. Somehow, the clone that had earned her affections almost a year ago found his way back to her, and he managed to remove from Gillard's existence the one being who had started to give him hope for his own happiness.

"That clone the princess is in love with came back for her," Gillard explained further, unable to do more than seethe his words, "She's trying to escape, and Tarj is helping them."

The stormtrooper captain remained silent now, not certain what he could say. Moff Harkin had not actually given him or his men a direct order to do anything, and TK-2857 really had no interest in a civilian dilemma that he and his men had no business in dealing with or being concerned about.

Gillard turned back now to the display Tarj had left behind and pressed his fingers onto the equinine in the flimsy, understanding that defiance worked in different ways. Arlesse may be trying to defy her role as a princess and his companion, but Gillard could be defiant as well. He was not going to give up on the only woman whose unique sincerity had made him a more honest man.

"How do I get her back?" Gillard asked more to himself than to the soldiers around him.

"We could set up blockades at the hangars and docking bays and make every citizen undergo an identification check," TK-2857 offered. When he saw the moff raise his head from the reference manual to look at him, the captain then added, "We were trained to find the enemy's path of flight and block it from all sides. Sometimes chasing an enemy is the surest way to lose it, but getting ahead of that enemy often cuts off the escape."

Gillard understood his captain's logic, and he had decided that he would not let anyone off easy because the time had come to make an example of such tyranny. He tried to imagine if he would have the boldness to bring Arlesse to punishment when she was returned. However, the thought of bringing harm to her caused an ache in his chest, and he suddenly realized that he had truly grown to care about her. Gillard knew then that she'd have to suffer an alternate fate than what the cohorts of this tyrannical action would experience.

Gillard turned now to his stormtrooper, determined to see it through to the end and be certain that Arlesse was safe in the palace once again.

"Captain, do as you have suggested: set up blockades at the hangars and docking bays, and yes, have every citizen undergo an identification check. Bring the princess back to me unharmed – unconscious if necessary – but unharmed. Feel free to kill anyone who gets in your way, especially if they are former Republic clones."

"Yes sir," TK-2857 acknowledged, as he moved towards the shop door.

Leaving Tarj's set-up behind, Gillard moved back to the former palace guardians now and brought his eyes down to Davi Saun. He stared with cold hatred at one of the men he was certain was responsible for Arlesse's disappearance. Even though his voice was aimed at the stormtrooper captain to catch him before he left, Gillard made certain that Saun knew exactly why he was ordering it. "One last thing, Captain. I want these three taken back to the palace for proper questioning with the prison interrogation team, and kill any of their kind that you or your men encounter. We'll not have this manner of betrayal to the Empire again. These former guardians have taken advantage of my leniency, and I need to make an example to the Tochinite citizens that I cannot have this type of disloyalty ever happen again."


	29. Chapter 28

_Author's Notes_: I didn't intend to delay this chapter for so long, but it took weeks to get it where I wanted it. Thanks again for all the support and encouragement from everyone who has been reading and reviewing.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 28**

_I'm going with you to that hangar. If Princess Arlesse is with them, I want one last chance to reason with her before you take her by force. I'm prepared to deal with her as a prisoner, but I'm hoping to avoid that scenario because if she becomes a prisoner then nothing about her will ever be the same._  
Moff Gillard Harkin's conversation to TK-2857 upon discovering the location of the ship, _Galaar Woor_

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Another small break in the darkness was coming up before the group. They were growing accustomed to the tight spacing and the minimum lighting from Jas' _buy'ce_. While the break in the tunnel was always a welcome sight, there was also the danger that the Imperials had caught onto their plan and had set up posts on the street level to monitor their movements.

Jas turned his head backwards, using his _buy'ce_ lights once again as the signal to tell everyone to slow down while they cautiously approached the grate above them. So far, their only visitors had been a few hand-sized rodents that scurried around and a few clusters of crawling insects that had better things to do than get under their feet. For the most part, the rodents seemed to live in the main underground tunnels. Occasionally, though, the group of humans had run into a few nests imbedded in the miner's tunnels, where the rodents appeared to be finding solace from the larger communities. No one had time to ponder a reason for that, but as long as the majority of the creatures remained in the main tunnels rather than the parallel and intersecting tunnels that the miners had built, then it was one less roadblock they were required to dodge around.

As they approached the opening to the world above them, it indicated that they had come across another intersection and they now needed to determine which pathway to follow.

Jas' _buy'ce_ had been downloaded with a rough, hand-drawn sketch of the underground roadmap. The map had been recorded years ago in a very old flimsi that recounted the exploits of the palace guardians and their triumphs over the years. The flimsi was the only known reference to the history of the palace guardians, and Davi Saun was responsible for keeping it securely hidden in order to preserve that sacred history. The only reason Davi had allowed Jas to upload the images of the tunnel system was because of his intent to defend the life of Tochin's last surviving member of the royal family.

Glancing at the map, Jas saw that it was indicating for them to turn left at this intersection, as that was the clearest direction to the docking bay where they had stationed the ship. They had made certain to try and leave the ship away from the main traffic so as not to draw a lot of attention, but within sight enough that it wasn't too obvious that their presence wasn't fully innocent.

With the momentary break, Tarj took the opportunity to squeeze past the group at this intersection. The tunnels didn't allow for more than a person's width, but the intersections always opened up enough so that they could rotate whether he or Dusty would be in the back of the group.

Tarj grabbed his small blaster, and prepared it in his hands as he crept into the dusky illumination. He stepped softly around the edge of the light until he was at an angle where he could look upwards safely. Although he couldn't see much more than the sky above, he found that if he angled just right, he could catch a glimpse of shadows passing. At this moment, he heard more than saw, the stormtroopers running past, their attention drawn elsewhere.

Keeping his eyes above, Tarj made a silent motion with one of his hands, the signal for each of the group to slowly and quietly move in the direction that Jas had indicated. Just as Dusty pulled away from the tunnel wall and started stepping into the light, they heard a series of blaster shots above them followed by the sounds of people yelling in confusion.

Dusty stopped where he was, his eyes now facing upwards to try and see something. Although he knew he would see very little to nothing, it was more of an instinctive reaction than coherent thought to look up.

The noises above caused them all to pause and listen closer to what was happening. They needed to assess if the commotion aboveground would hinder their escape. After a few moments, footsteps thundered above the grate and everyone instinctively fell back against the darkness of the tunnel walls.

Barely inhaling for fear that the sound of someone's breathing would betray their location they all listened carefully. Within moments, the confusion from the world above became entirely clear.

"I've done nothing!" a man's voice yelled.

"You betrayed the Empire," responded a calm stormtrooper. "Your entire kind are to be executed on sight."

"They're going to kill us all!" a woman shouted frantically.

"Ma'am, our orders are to execute former guardians," the stormtrooper replied, his voice enforcing calm on the mass of citizens they had rounded up. "Everyone else is simply required to undergo an ID check."

The man's voice returned now. "I _was_ a guardian. Your moff forced me…"

There was no further conversation as a blaster bolt ended whatever the man had planned to say next.

"Why are you doing this?" another woman's voice now screamed.

"Sir, these citizens check out," came a stormtrooper's reply.

The cloned men listening in their confines of the tunnel easily picked up on the subtle differences in voices between the stormtroopers. It at least told them that there were a few squads running around to enforce the bizarre orders that Harkin had demanded.

Arlesse now clutched to Jas' arm, trying to bury her face in his shoulder plate. She hadn't been able to control her gasp at the sound of the blaster firing and she willed herself to remain still, forcing herself to not give away their location.

Despite her efforts, her reaction had put everyone else on edge, fearing that her response to the slaughter above them might have been heard by one of the stormtroopers. Again, a collective breath was held for a few long moments. As they heard the stormtroopers move onto the next group of citizens, and there was no indication of being detected, the former Republic soldiers looked to each other.

"Harkin's growing aggressive," Tarj whispered, being certain that Dusty and Jas were paying particular attention to his words. Out of all of them, Tarj felt he knew Harkin and his tactics best, and he wanted to be certain that his brothers might have to prepare for and possibly convince…_Les'ika_ to not give herself in. Tarj felt his thoughts pause as his brain mentally rolled around the name that Crimson Squad had created for Arlesse. He had asked Dusty earlier how they had decided on that for addressing her and was more than surprised to learn that it was Mouse who had brought the concept to light. Tarj had to admit that Jas finishing Mouse's initial thought and combining Arlesse's nickname with the _Mando'a_ word was rather clever, and now Tarj was ready to stop using Arlesse's name to help protect her from the Empire and any other enemies who might be lurking. Addressing the group once again, Tarj concluded his thoughts. "Harkin thinks he'll get _Les'ika_ to surrender by scaring her this way."

Chora brought her gaze to look at the back of the princess' head, sensing that the cloned men were quickly dissolving her true name and identity, as none of them had called her by her given name. She had heard Tarj and the disguised clone, who went by Bhen, discussing how the new name came about, and she had to admit that it was not something she would have even considered. Wondering what kind of lifestyle the young princess would live after leaving Tochin and how she would fare with it, Chora felt enormous pity for this _Les'ika_, as she watched the way the princess clutched to the clone in the Mandalorian armor.

Chora couldn't imagine in such a short amount of time having to deal with her family being executed and her home being stolen from her like _Les'ika_ had, and she wanted to offer something to encourage her to not lose hope. However, during Chora's tenure in the guardians' service, she didn't have much direct contact with the royal family. Even though her duties were still important to the safety of the monarchy, crossing paths with the former king or his daughter were rare occurrences.

Chora now wanted to try and breach that separation. She wanted to live up to the final orders her superior officer had given her, and she had to find some way to start opening the lines of communications with a young girl who was even more elusive than Tarj had been. Not certain what else to say besides the obvious, Chora simply fell back on what she knew. Softly, she told the princess, "You can't allow yourself to be intimated by Harkin's tactics."

Arlesse closed her eyes as she kept her forehead connected to the cool metal of Jas' shoulder plate. Her stomach tightened and twisted in a way that nearly made her sick for having thought Harkin had any ounce of decency. She felt her betrayal for Jas building again, the fear that if he had not come for her when he did, that she might be growing affections for a man who would eventually find ways to hurt her emotionally.

After hearing Chora's words, Arlesse took a moment to examine them, realizing that the former guardian had told her what she did simply because it was what a guardian was expected to say to the royal dignitary they were responsible for protecting. Chora was merely doing her job to try and keep Arlesse from being harmed, and Arlesse wasn't certain yet how to approach Chora. They never did more than cross paths occasionally, and on those rare moments, Arlesse had merely returned a smile from the guardian as they had moved past each other in the hallways of the palace. And while Arlesse understood that Chora was now trying to be approachable, nothing would change the connection she felt to the cloned men who each had spent their time with her in more personal ways.

Lifting her eyes, Arlesse did not fight her instincts as she brought her irises to Jas instead of Chora. She knew that for as much as Jas would protect her, he would never be anything less than truthful about their chances of escape. She looked to the T-visor on his helmet and felt his hand enclose hers in a grasp that was both gentle yet firm. She could feel in his touch that he had no intentions to turn her over to the Empire, and she thought about the vows she had made to him. It started with the promise that took place in the palace hangar right before he was ordered to return to the war. She had told him then that she would wait for him, and Harkin had nearly managed to make her to break those words. Then, not more than an hour ago, she had vowed to Jas that they were husband and wife, and now Harkin was trying to pierce that promise as well.

"You know what you left, _Les'ika_," Jas told her, unable to control the fear that Harkin might just be able to manipulate her in a way he had not predicted. He knew they might have to fight against Harkin's underhanded tactics, and while Jas suppressed the anger he felt within him at how politicians still played games with the woman he loved, he hadn't considered that Harkin would actually kill the people he was expected to govern. It just enforced Jas' want to protect Arlesse from everyone who always tried to prey upon her kindness and her innocence, and Jas instantly realized that Harkin's current actions made him so much more dangerous than Zech had been. What Zech tried to kill with nothing but words, Harkin was quickly working to kill with every means he had at his disposal.

Grasping _Les'ika's_ hand more firmly, Jas remembered how he had silently vowed during their time in Zech's presence that he would not allow anyone else to ever shred her apart like that again, and he had no choice but to remain brutally honest about what would happen if Harkin managed to pressure her with this vindictive strategy. Making his voice certain, Jas now said, "You know Harkin's manipulations will never change, even if you go back to him. He holds much power, and he isn't afraid to use it."

"But, they're all suffering because of me, aren't they?" she asked softly, forcing words through her tightening throat. Her fingers now clutched to Jas' hand to the point that she felt the ache in her wrist. She didn't want to give Jas up again, but she didn't know if she could live with the knowledge that she might have prevented this kind of injustice if she had simply returned to a home that was no longer hers.

Jas saw the pain in _Les'ika's_ eyes. He could see how she was battling this decision and how she weighed the consequences of each action she could take. He knew he had no choice now. If his dealings in this moment delayed their escape for longer than they originally intended, he would take that risk. He knew _Les'ika_ would not trust anyone else to her decision, and he needed to convince her that her freedom and her happiness would never come from staying here with a man like Harkin.

Using his free hand, Jas reached up and took the _buy'ce_ off his head. While holding it in one hand, he kept a steady grasp on her fingers with the other. His eyes connected to hers, and his voice was quiet, serious. "What do you think Harkin would do to you if he ever found out about your mother?"

Arlesse swallowed hard at that concept, having not fully comprehended the consequences that Darian Psach's genetics might have on her and her future.

Jas saw the impact his words were having, and he had to push one last thought onto _Les'ika_. He needed her to see everything she would lose if she remained a princess to a world that had nothing left for her.

"You're the only one who can decide what to do, _Les'ika_," he said gently, "All I can do is tell you what I know, and all I know is that Gan told us family is who we make it be."

Arlesse continued to absorb Jas' words, carefully considering them from every argument he offered. Jas was always brutally honest, and it was one of the traits she had found so attractive about him. His honesty was just one fragment of his character that became the foundation to their connection.

Slowly, she now looked around to the group of people that were risking their lives to help her escape. They had each adopted her in their own ways, much as she had done for them. While Chora was new to her circle, the former guardian was trying to find a place where she fit, and Tarj seemed to offer Chora that place. The cloned men, though, were without question her family.

Arlesse came to realize that she had always accepted Tarj as her older, protective brother. He was the man who had stood by her side and kept her secrets during the transition to the Empire. Dusty was always her whimsical brother, the man who had a great deal of experience in the galaxy and slowly let snippets of those experiences be known to others.

Jas, though, was nothing she had ever expected to find in a companion, but he was everything she had learned she wanted. He was the only man who had looked beyond her shortcomings and dared to take her from the solitude of her safety. He now had defied his orders and his upbringing as a government-issued soldier to find a way to be with her.

Arlesse had no reason to deny that she chose Jas and had waited months for him. She saw beyond the cloned man, this being that was created by genetics and science, and she could so very clearly see the man inside who was caring and loyal. He didn't want to be with her because it was an order. He had made a decision to be with her, and that was something no one else had ever offered her.

Arlesse knew now that if she walked away from these only people in the galaxy who truly cared about her, she would imprison herself into a life of burden from where she would never escape again.

Without thought, Arlesse's fingers brushed against the pendant on her neck, and any foolish consideration she had for staying on Tochin was suddenly erased. Besides her responsibility to protect defiant clone soldiers and a former palace guardian, she knew she could never trust Harkin to the secret she carried about her mother or the knowledge that Arlesse might harbor a genetic link to pass on Force sensitivity.

Arlesse heard another distant blaster shot from the world above her and now tried to imagine how she would feel if the person who had taken that hit was any of these soldiers surrounding her. While she felt pity for the citizens of her world, she was consumed with heartache and grief over the prospect of Dusty, Tarj, or Jas being the victim of Harkin's sudden insanity.

"Jas, I'm afraid," she finally answered softly as her eyes came back to his dark irises. She shook her head, not sure how to express her sadness and her fear. "I can't lose any of you."

Jas brought his hand from hers to the back of her head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. His voice was determined, filled with emotion. "We kept you safe once, _Les'ika_. We'll do it again."

"Besides," Dusty quietly added with a wink, "The Empire has no idea how to deal with trigger-happy psychos raised by Mandalorians."

Tarj brought his eyes from the grate above them and nodded once. "Sounds like the stormtroopers have moved on. Time to get going."

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

The journey through the miner's tunnels had taken nearly two hours as they had come across one intersection that had been blocked off, and it forced them to backtrack a third of the way from where they had come before they could find another pathway.

The chaos from the world above continued during most of their escape. As they neared their final destination and left the main town behind them, the commotion faded away in the distance.

One final square of artificial light was now looming ahead of the group, and Jas indicated to them that this was where the hangar was located.

As they had with all the previous grates and openings, they stopped and clung to the walls. They silently assessed what was going on above by listening for the slightest sound. They concentrated on the sounds of footsteps, voices, and movement of any kind. Nothing was heard, but that didn't convince the former soldiers that they were safe to just emerge from their hiding.

Moving back down the corridor a few feet, they remained in an area that was wide enough to crouch against the walls and still have a small amount of room in front of them. While in this space, they were out of earshot from anyone lurking overhead, and they decided to take this moment to regroup.

Tarj was the first to speak, skepticism clearly evident in his tone. He may have been out of combat for quite some time, but he still retained everything he was ever trained when it came to security and making decisions for a squad. "I don't like it. Tochin might not have the busiest ports, and for it to be this quiet, they must have put a lockdown in place."

"Agreed," Dusty responded. "We both know that the first basic rule of tracking is to close off the exits. Even late-model stormies would be taught that."

Chora wasn't one who wanted to sit back in the shadows and wait for rescuing. She had her own knowledge and training, and she wanted to help brainstorm some way for them to escape so she chimed in with her own thoughts. "I don't plan to be trapped here until Harkin calls off the search. We need to do recon and find out what we're really up against."

Dusty snickered at Chora's enthusiasm and looked to Tarj. "She's so innocent. Guess you two didn't have much time to get acquainted before she followed you down the mole-rat hole?"

Tarj was grateful for the dim lighting that hid his sudden embarrassed flush. He really didn't feel like telling Dusty how Chora had blindsided him, kissing him without any warning and how he enjoyed it in return. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what she saw in him and why just today he realized his attraction to her when they had spent eight months under the same roof without so much as a flirtatious glance.

Then, he pushed the thought aside as he realized that his gaze had inadvertently landed on Chora. He had no idea how long he was staring at her like some love-crazed adolescent, and it was shameful for a clone commander – former or not – to behave this way during a mission. However, after the mission was another matter entirely, and Tarj quickly shut off his thoughts again before they landed him an even greater snicker from Dusty.

"Just shut up, _ner vod_," Tarj muttered. "If you're the brains of this operation, put them to use."

Jas tried to ignore the bantering between Dusty and Tarj, but he found he could not. Their teasing was so familiar and yet so different. The familiarity reminded him of his days on Kamino, when Crimson and Tarj were constantly sharing disagreements and holding unofficial contests. A part of Jas longed for those days, those bittersweet times when he and his brothers were still a whole unit. And, yet the bantering between his brothers now was different in that they had something other than weapons, techniques, and Gan's affections to argue over. They were teasing in a way that was…normal. They sounded like regular men, not clones. They truly were brothers and not because of bio-engineered genetics that coded them as such, but because they shared common experiences and bonds.

"You want the brains?" Dusty further pushed, trying not to break out into laughter, "Then talk to your brother in the bucket."

Jas sighed as he watched everyone's eyes turn to him. He held up one hand with his index finger pointing upwards, the all-to-familiar "wait one" and used his _buy'ce_ to tap into the camera feed that was located on the outside of their ship that the Nulls had dubbed the _Galaar Woor._ Neither Dusty nor Jas had questioned why the name translated in Basic to "Hawk Wind." The _Galaar Woor_ had been adequately named, as on their test run of flying her, she had unmatched speed and a grace only worthy of a skilled avian.

In addition to lending the ship to Jas and Dusty, the Nulls had also included a number of "modifications" to the vessel. The dual video feed had been just one of those modifications. The _Galaar Woor_ had been fitted with two sets of cameras, one on the top of the hull and one just below the cargo bay.

Trying not to get lost in the thoughts of all the help their brother Nulls had provided, Jas decided he could thank them somehow later. For now, though, he needed his concentration on the mission of getting them all free of Tochin. Turning his attention back to the video feed, Jas studied what the images were offering. The bottom camera showed the layout of the hangar as if he were standing on the floor inside the open-topped room. The images from the top hull, though, gave a hawk-bat's-eye view as though perched on some high scaffolding. Jas could clearly see from the overhead angle that there was a squad of sixteen stormtroopers based in various angles around the crates. What Jas found even more intriguing was that Moff Harkin himself had accompanied the squad to this landing bay.

To Jas, that meant only one thing: Their ship was the only off-world vehicle on Tochin. It wasn't something they didn't expect in their plans, but it just showed that Harkin wasn't entirely a puppet and he thought things through for himself.

"Okay, so what's the weather report, _ner vod_?" Tarj asked after a few long moments when he saw that Jas had obviously been concentrating on something inside the bucket.

Jas kept his attention on the video images, watching for anything to change while he addressed his brother. "Stormie squadron with a sprinkle of moff."

Chora glanced at the princess before she looked to the cloned men. "How do you expect to escape if Harkin already knows your plan?"

"Because there's no other option," Jas answered as he looked to _Les'ika_. He saw how she looked at him with the same trust that she had onboard Hazar's ship. There was no mistaking her faith in him or his brothers because she knew that any alternative to their escape was unthinkable.

Dusty took over formulating a plan by laying a few things onto the ground while Jas kept his lights illuminated on the dirt path below them so they could set up the objects.

"Okay, then, give us the layout of what we're dealing with," Dusty requested.

Jas took a few of the small credit chips Dusty offered and set them down to indicate the location of the crates. He then used Dusty's false identification chip to be their ship. Putting small indentations into the dirt with his fingers, Jas marked how many stormtroopers were staked out where. With just those few objects, the soldiers were able to map out what their potential escape route looked like and what kind of ambush lay in wait for them.

Studying the placement of the _Galaar Woor_ in comparison to the crates and stormtroopers, the former Republic soldiers already began wrapping their heads around how to get past the blockade. The Imperials had been sure to concentrate their attention on the entryway to the hangar rather than any place on the floor. Unfortunately though, the grate was too far from the ship to really make a safe run for it.

Jas and the others knew that they needed to somehow overtake Harkin and his stormtroopers, and their one advantage at this moment was surprise. The Imperials may have found the ship, but they still hadn't discovered the group's whereabouts. The clones knew that was the reason why the Imperials were waiting around an empty hangar with their attention on a doorway and not carrying on in their search.

"The key is going to be a distraction," Tarj muttered thoughtfully while he rubbed his chin and studied the makeshift floor plan.

"Flash-bomb won't be enough," Jas replied while he kept comparing their model to the images in his _buy'ce_. "They'll be expecting something like that, especially with the way they're using the cargo for cover."

"We need something much more unexpected," offered Dusty. "I'm just not certain what."

Chora glanced at Tarj and then to the others. "I can do it. I can be your distraction."

Arlesse blinked as she watched the soldiers around her working on an escape, and she knew that the moment Chora showed her face, Harkin or the stormtroopers would instantly kill her. She was a palace guardian, the exact kind of people the Imperials had been hunting and executing. Arlesse didn't want to see the woman hurt, especially now that she had seen how Tarj had begun developing new affections towards the former guardian. The last thing she wanted was to see the man who had been her loyal guardian and brother for nearly a year miss out on the possibility of having Chora share in his short life.

Arlesse knew she wasn't trained like any of these soldiers were, but maybe that was what their plan needed. Maybe she needed to come face to face with Harkin because it was the last thing he would expect, and it was the one thing he wanted most.

Realizing that she had no other choice, she understood how it would give the others the chance they needed for escape, and Arlesse was certain that if things went wrong, Harkin would not outright kill her. He would certainly imprison her again and no doubt force her into the arrangement he wished to share between her royal blood and his so-called Imperial nobility, but in all her encounters with Harkin, Arlesse had seen that the moff actually had no desire to ever harm her.

Hearing the fear in her uncertain and soft voice, Arlesse knew she had no choice but to offer what her _vode_ needed of her. She needed to make the sacrifice now that she never had the chance to offer to the cloned man who had been killed by Hazar's torture. "No, I have to do it. I need to be the distraction."

Immediately, Jas shook his head at the concept that _Les'ika_ would put herself in the line of fire. The whole point of this mission was to come back for her. He had spent nearly a year imagining their lives together and there were moments in the last couple weeks that had virtually killed his hope for that. Being with her again had showed him that what he sought should not be taken away from him. In fact, just a couple hours ago, he had finally found her and felt like they were going to have that image in his mind of their home. The last thing he could consciously do now was put his wife in the line of fire and risk losing her once more.

"_Les'ika_, it's suicide…"

"Maybe it will work, _ner vod_," Tarj interrupted quickly, catching onto _Les'ika's_ logic and why she would use herself to distract Harkin. Tarj had seen the way the Imperial moff had interacted with the princess for the last couple months, and he knew that only _Les'ika_ would have the uncanny knack to bring Harkin to a halt.

Jas clenched his fists, as anger and frustration overwhelmed his thoughts. It was not supposed to end like this, and he wondered just how much of a fool he had been to think otherwise.

Arlesse put her hand on Jas' arm, aware of how he was reluctant to even consider what was their only option. She watched his helmeted head turn in her direction and then his hands reach up to take it off.

"What if I lose you?" he asked her gently.

"I know enough about Harkin to know that he won't hurt me," she told Jas softly. "But, if he gets any of you…"

"Harkin won't get any of us," Dusty suddenly chimed in, and his artificially colored, light brown eyes immediately flashed with some crazed brainstorm. "You're going to be our distraction, _Les'ika_. I just thought of the most ridiculous and insane way to make this work."


	30. Chapter 29

_Author's Notes_: Thanks again, everyone, for keeping interested! I'm sorry I took so long to post, but the hardest part about this chapter was the opening quote. It just seemed there was nothing I could find to begin the chapter properly, but I think I have resolved that now.

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 29**

…_and with a final strike, the knight's sword slain the blood-thirsty beast. News of the victory swept through the village, and the people knew they were safe once again. The king acknowledged the knight's bravery and cunning and allowed his youngest daughter the honor of marrying the knight who had won her heart._  
Excerpt from "The Tale of the Blood Beast," from Tochin's _Novella of Fable Chronicles_

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Gillard and his personal stormtrooper contingent had spent what seemed like hours in hiding in the hangar with the only off-world ship on Tochin. While his men had barely moved from their positions and were able to hold their bodies quite rigidly where they were, Gillard was just unable to keep still for that long. He had shifted his body a number of times since they had arrived, rotating his posture from kneeling to standing to sitting and back again. At one point, TK-2857 had offered to have him escorted back to the palace and that they would see he is updated immediately, but Gillard had insisted that he be present when Arlesse arrived. He had reiterated his earlier argument that he needed the opportunity to civilly talk with her and not just capture her like a common criminal.

Looking down at his chronometer, Gillard was surprised to see that he and his squad had not been holding their position in the hangar for as long as he originally thought and that merely forty-five minutes had passed. Gillard was surprised by the multitude of thoughts that had passed in so short a time, and he had spent the majority of the wait considering how he would handle Arlesse.

His thoughts had shifted between what kind of instant punishment he would enact on her and if he would be able to even follow-through with such a concept. Ultimately, he had no desire to ever harm her, and he actually managed to understand why she chose to attempt to leave with her clone lover. However, her status as a princess and her clone's as a deserter were factors that would not go unnoticed in the Empire, and Gillard had decided that upon Arlesse's safe return, he would not delay the inevitable any longer. The clone would be killed immediately, Gillard's reason cleanly stating desertion to the Empire and betrayal to the world of Tochin by kidnapping the sole member of Tochin's royalty. In honor of the princess' safe return, he and Arlesse would exchange their marriage vows and partake in the expected celebratory customs that follow the wedding of a Tochin monarch.

One thing Gillard had planned to not enforce, though, was to bring Arlesse into his bedchamber and coerce her into the physical expectations of a wife. A binding legal contract under Imperial law was enough for now, and he felt no reason to reconsider that. He knew it would take a long time to win Arlesse over, but without the living influence of her clone to interfere in her emotions, he was certain that Arlesse would eventually come to him of her own free will. He realized that it might take quite some time to wholly earn Arlesse's affections, but as long as she was in a union with him, he had a better chance to keep her protected from the Empire's minions and to keep her hidden from any lurking enemies.

Gillard was suddenly startled out of his ruminations as he heard the sound of a grate moving in the center of the room. He noticed that the noise also caught everyone else's attention as well, especially TK-2857. The stormtrooper captain's armor stiffened even straighter beside him, and almost instantly the soldier had steadied his blaster in the direction of whatever was causing the noise.

Gillard was aware of his mêlée shortcomings, as he was far from combat-experienced, but he had plenty of self-defense training and was certain he could hold his own with a blaster, provided he stayed behind cover. Gillard didn't need to ask, but he had no doubt that his stormtrooper captain had ordered at least one of his men to keep him covered. It wasn't unexpected to have that kind of protection, but he would have predicted no less from soldiers like these who followed their orders and did their jobs.

Bringing his head slowly around the opposite side of the crate from TK-2857, Gillard took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for a fight. He willed his hands not to shake as the spike of adrenaline shot through his body, almost causing him to feel fumbly.

However, instead of taking a shot at an enemy he expected to see, he saw one lone figure emerging from a hole in the floor of the hangar. He recognized the dirt-streaked wild tresses before he even saw her face, and he knew of only one woman who had such untamed locks. Gillard hesitated for a few long moments before he dared to get up from his knees and lean out of the safety of his cover. When no one else followed Arlesse through the opening in the floor, he gradually moved from his position hoping that TK-2857 would not shoot him in the back for doing something so idiotic.

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Jas had broken the seals on the grate earlier, and Arlesse slowly pushed aside the metal covering before she pulled herself out of the floor's hole. She didn't try to stop the shaking in her movements, making certain that Harkin saw she was genuinely scared. She had realized at some point that any of the stormtroopers hiding could simply fire a stunbolt at her or worse, but she had to take that chance. She needed to stall Harkin long enough for whatever plan Dusty had told everyone he had. She knew it was crazy of her to even consider her role in this maniacal scheme, but if nothing went right, she wanted the assurance that Jas and her…_vode_ – as that was what they all had become – got away safely. Maybe one day, they could try to be together again if this plan failed, but she could not allow Jas to suffer for following his heart and trying to be with her.

Arlesse stood from the floor of the hangar and nervously brushed off some of the dirt from her skirt after she had gotten herself free of the hole. She flinched when she suddenly heard Harkin's voice in a commanding tone she had never heard him use before. "Wait! Hold your fire."

She still had an overwhelming sense of fright, but there was a fraction of relief mixed with it at the fact that Harkin and his stormtroopers had lived up to her expectations by not shooting her on sight.

Arlesse watched the moff move a couple steps towards her, his hand quickly setting the blaster back in the holster at his side, his gesture showing he meant no hostility. Arlesse suddenly had her thoughts flood back to the moments before she had climbed the handholds out of the tunnel. Dusty had called everyone over to a conference, purposefully excluding her. Tarj had convinced Dusty that if she didn't know the plan, she had no need to lie about what she didn't know. Arlesse had accepted that concept, and maintained her distance so she couldn't see much or hear what they were discussing while Dusty pointed to specific marks on the floor where Jas had set up the floor plan of the hangar with the items from Dusty's pockets. Jas had followed up that discussion with how everyone needed to backtrack through the tunnels to get into their positions. Then, Chora and Tarj were each handed a glowstick while Jas offered one of his spare blasters to the former palace guardian.

After they had disappeared into the darkness, Jas and Dusty remained where they were and spoke in hushed tones, using mostly _Mando'a_. Arlesse couldn't catch any of the words because they were talking so fast and so quietly, and while she tried to watch them in the dark shadows, she saw very little of their movements.

Shortly after that discussion, Dusty had also taken his leave into the darkness and that left only Jas to return to where Arlesse was waiting. He had kept the helmet attached to his belt, and she was grateful to be looking at his face rather than trying to discern his emotions through the T-visor.

Arlesse felt her heart racing as Jas approached her, fighting the fear of having to confront the Imperials alone. However, that fear quickly changed as she saw something that looked nearly broken in Jas' eyes, and whatever was going on there was more disconcerting than having to face Harkin again. She had never seen Jas so lost and alone, not even when he had told her about losing Gan and his brothers.

Arlesse forced a breath into her lungs, determined to find the words to ask Jas what was wrong. However, before she could begin speaking, Jas brought his hands to her face and pressed his lips to hers with an intensity she had never felt him use before. She could feel her own reservations about this plan, but she didn't fight her passion for him. She feared that this might be their last embrace, and she melted into his touch, her longing to be able to share a moment alone with him overriding her fear of the Imperials in the hangar above them.

Not certain if they had been embraced for merely a minute or for the eternity of an hour, the electronic ping from inside Jas' helmet shattered that surreal moment of being nothing but embracing lovers.

A comm. message from Dusty to Jas was all they needed to be reminded that she was a princess running from a life she no longer wished to live, and he was a deserted war clone who had been cursed with a shorted life expectation.

Arlesse fought to get her breath back under control, feeling her body heaving as her fear started to creep into her thoughts again.

Jas held her face for a few seconds longer, staring into her eyes.

"Stay _kotyc_," he told her, but Arlesse wasn't certain if he was talking to her or himself, as she could see there was doubt in his dark irises. The source of that doubt was not discernible, but she could see that he did not offer it because he didn't believe in her. She saw that Jas trusted her completely, even for the part she had to take in Dusty's plan, but there was no mistaking the hesitation for something that obviously was bothering him.

She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but after a moment she could clearly see he was uncertain with himself. She wanted to know what Dusty had told him and why it would shake his confidence, but Jas quickly locked down that emotion and pushed it away from her view. His eyes shielded over with the concentration of a soldier, and Arlesse knew that whatever vulnerability he had offered her was now long buried again.

Breathless and nervous, Arlesse considered that his doubt had to be simply because he was afraid of losing her. Jas had expressed that fear earlier, and she could not fail him. He had lost so much, and they needed each other too much now. She touched her hand to his and found her voice would not go any louder than a shallow whisper. "I love you."

Jas simply closed his eyes and took his hands from her face, and Arlesse felt her fingers fall from his touch as he pulled back.

"_Ni kar'taylir darasuum gar, Les'ika_," he told her in reply.

Arlesse swallowed hard, recognizing the phrase from when Jas had said goodbye to her in the palace hangar prior to leaving Tochin to return to the war. She remembered reading those words in his first comm. message, but she had deleted the message before she could take the time to memorize them, concerned by the urgency of Jas' words.

Releasing a final breath, she moved from Jas as she stepped towards the light of the tunnel. She paused to look upwards but turned back to Jas to take one last look at him. She had needed one more moment to use him to be her strength, but he had already locked his face inside the helmet, and she could not delay her fate any longer. Having to face Harkin was the only way to save her _vode_, and she had committed herself solely to preserving their lives.

"Arlesse," Gillard said, relief washing into his words and breaking her from her memories. "I began to fear the worst. Did the former guardians hurt you? What have they done to Tarj?"

Arlesse looked to Harkin, trying not to raise her fingers to her lips to touch where Jas had kissed her. As she saw the honest concern in the moff's eyes for her, she tried not to think about how he had seduced her so easily just the day before and how she had allowed him to kiss her because of her doubts over whether Jas was still alive.

Instead of lingering on her emotions, Harkin's mention of Tarj sparked something else in her thoughts. She found her concerns switching over to Tarj and Chora and their own hopes to escape with them. Arlesse came to realize that just like she was the last member of Tochin royalty, Chora was now the last palace guardian.

Arlesse had no idea just what she would be saying to Harkin when she offered to be the distraction, and she had wondered what kind of conversation they would share in a roomful of stormtroopers. She felt an underlying grief for the many palace guardians that had been killed earlier today, and she didn't fight the grief she felt for soldiers whom she had never known personally but crossed paths with daily. She wanted to defend their honor, to give them the justice that they would never have under the Imperials after the lies that Harkin had conceived for their demise.

"You killed so many of them," she whispered sadly, aware of the confused expression that crossed the moff's features. She then took a moment to think about the young and innocent guardians, the ones who had just earned their titles. Arlesse knew she didn't need to wonder if Harkin had hunted them down. She was certain that all the guardians were killed, regardless of their time in service, and it was just painful to think of men and women who were no older than she was being murdered for no reason other than a vocation they had chosen.

Feeling a different wave of grief suddenly, she realized that Harkin's purge of the Tochin soldiers was very much the same as Palpatine's of the Jedi, and she could only wonder again about her estranged mother. She had hoped that Darian Psach had found someone who was willing to help her escape, a clone like Jas or Dusty or Tarj who didn't see the need to kill every Jedi just because some political figure ordered it done.

"Arlesse…" Gillard said in an attempt to gain her attention as he saw that the princess had been absorbed in some long-lost sadness he could not identify.

"I heard the guardians being…murdered," she said, still trying to fight against the possible vision of her mother being hunted down and shot like the former palace guardians she had heard being killed earlier.

Gillard pushed another step forward, reading so clearly the anguish in the princess' features, and he had seen that his plan to kill the guardians had done its purpose. Arlesse had been unable to walk away from the royal responsibility of protecting her people, and now he had the opportunity to bring her back to him, with a civil conversation rather than the business end of a blaster.

"They plotted against the Empire," Gillard quickly replied, knowing that he had to lay the groundwork very carefully now if he wanted to keep Arlesse wrapped in his web of half-truths. "The Emperor cannot have traitors. We talked about this when I first arrived."

"But, they were protecting me," she breathed, ignoring Harkin's constant excuses about Emperor Palpatine. She had come to realize the true sacrifice that those men and women of the palace guardians had taken. She felt her forehead crease in this new understanding, and her voice dropped quieter while she looked blankly at nothing on the floor. "It wasn't about defying the Empire for them. It was about royal blood…they died because they vowed that kind of loyalty to the Tochin monarchy. The guardians had protected the royal family for centuries, and now they are all gone…because of me."

Gillard moved another step closer, studying the thoughts that flooded on the princess and how her face reflected so much. He kept his voice soft and concerned, saying what he needed in order to make her trust him again. "No, Arlesse, not because of you. They may have had your best interest in mind, but they went about it wrong. They shouldn't have misled you with false hope."

Arlesse shook her head sadly, remembering the moment when she and Crimson Squad had landed on Tochin Moon III, and Gath had tried calling his superiors for an extraction. The small holo image of the people in Gath's hand had disintegrated so quickly, and she didn't understand how someone could kill a ship full of people without the smallest iota of regret. At that time, she had no way to ask that of the Separatist general who had ordered that destruction, but now she wanted to know how Harkin could do the same thing to an entire contingent of guardians who were no longer employed as such due to his own laws.

"How could you kill them all?" she asked softly. "Not all of them were the traitors you believed they were."

Gillard glanced once over his shoulder to make certain that his soldiers were not attempting anything on the princess. He and Arlesse had been talking out in the open of the hangar for a few minutes and he thought that if an attack on his men would have happened, it would have come by now. He had begun to believe that Arlesse had truly left Tarj and her clone and had come to him of her own accord. Confident that he could freely talk with her, he felt no need to rush the conversation but to give her whatever reassurances she needed to have her stay with him. In order to do that, he needed to make her understand the logic of betrayal because the Empire was not forgiving, and the guardians of her world had committed a heinous crime by trying to remove Tochin's only royalty.

"Arlesse, what do you need me to do to show you how the Emperor would destroy everything? He demands respect and utmost obedience. I had no way to narrow down who the betrayers were, and if I had allowed them all to live, Emperor Palpatine would see to it that someone less reasonable is assigned here. I'm trying to save you from his wrath, and I want to keep you safe."

"I don't understand why you care so strongly for me," she told the moff softly, lifting her eyes to Harkin. "I've never treated you kindly."

Gillard dared another step closer and took a moment to consider his answer. He was still about ten feet away from her, but he had managed to creep nearly the same distance during their conversation, as he was determined to fully close that gap between them.

While Arlesse's question had been one he had asked to himself numerous times in the last couple months, Gillard had realized that he only understood the answer to it very recently. "It's your honesty, Arlesse. My whole life has been centered around politics, lies, and distrust, but you are not any of those things. You give me hope for believing in others, and it's because you're probably the most sincere being I've ever met."

Arlesse shuddered at how Harkin had removed his barriers for her so that she could see the truly honest person beneath. It was the first time she had seen him so vulnerable, as he was finally able to dismiss everything about him that was politically driven and he was able to simply be a man.

Gillard took another step closer now and felt a glimmer of hope in his chest when Arlesse still didn't back away or run. He watched how her eyes stayed on him, and he dared to try and persuade her just a bit more. "Please come with me and help me plan our future."

Arlesse closed her eyes for the slightest second as she took a deep breath. She fought against telling Harkin that she would not commit to him because she had already legally married Jas, and she wondered how much longer she would have to keep Harkin distracted. She hadn't expected him to bare himself to her like that, especially not in front of a squad of stormtroopers, and she started to pity Harkin for having expressed his true reasons for his attraction with her. She had believed his interest was merely because of her title, but now she really saw that it was much more than that. He had developed honest emotions for her, and she had never expected to see that from him. Even though Harkin knew how to manipulate, there was a very kind and sincere man buried somewhere deep beneath that Imperial Moff.

Realizing that her fingers had instinctively brushed against her pendant, Arlesse remembered the tiny shell within the star. Whatever kindness Harkin had been wrapping her within suddenly evaporated at the mere thought of Jas. The Republic Army's cloned soldier – her knight – had been honest and true from the moment she first met him, and there was never a time she had to question his intentions.

Opening her eyes now, Arlesse saw that Harkin was only a few feet before her. However, she didn't keep her focus on the moff as she felt her eyes stray behind him when movement caught her attention. She started to take a step back at the sight of two stormtroopers slowly stepping out from around one of the crates. The one that she recognized as Harkin's stormtrooper captain aimed his blaster in a ready posture – not at her – but it was the kind of stance she had seen the men of Crimson use during their mission with her. The other stormtrooper, though, had his blaster pointing in her direction. Arlesse instinctively sucked in a breath at the threat of the stormtroopers, unable to fight the fear that Jas and the others had no choice but to leave her behind now.

Gillard recognized the fear in Arlesse's eyes and as he turned to look behind him with the intention to address his men to back off, the sound of a blaster bolt grasped his attention. By the time he turned around to Arlesse again, he saw that he was too late.

Arlesse felt the cold steel of the floor against her cheek and didn't have time to comprehend how she had gotten there so quickly. She felt her consciousness hastily fading, and she thought she had heard Harkin screaming at the stormtroopers for being idiots, but if he had it was immediately drowned out by what she could only imagine war sounded like. It only took a couple seconds for everything to happen, and Arlesse heard the sounds of the blaster bolts echoing loudly in the hangar, as they seemed to come from everywhere at once. Unfortunately before she could understand what exactly had happened, everything had gone dark.

**87 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Gillard suddenly felt like his world had been drowned in a thick, clear gel. He had heard the blaster bolt, but he could not discern from where it came. All he was aware of was how Arlesse now laid on the floor, her body slumped on her side and unmoving. Her hair had fallen around her, some of the locks draped over her cheek, and he couldn't even tell if she was still breathing.

Something cold seeped into Gillard's chest when he realized that her eyes were closed in what looked like a peaceful slumber, and he remembered screaming something about idiots at his stormtroopers, but he had no idea what exactly he had said.

Blinking hard in an effort to see through the invisible haze, he wondered what had happened and how he had so quickly lost control of the situation. He slowly turned his gaze between the two stormtroopers that flanked either side of him, aware of how TK-2857 was trying to get his attention. He heard him ask, "Sir?" more than once, but Gillard could not break out of the haze to reply.

He watched as one of his stormtroopers took a blaster bolt to the stomach and another to his chest. Gillard didn't need to be told that the man beneath that armor would never rise again, and he continued to hear his men shouting around him, their words indistinct. They yelled in combat terms, something that was more instinctual than understandable. He watched the rest of the stormtroopers move free from their shelters, their intentions to protect him. However, their efforts were short-lived as they were quickly struck down by blaster bolts from unknown assailants. It was a confusing display of screams and weapons while Gillard's trained stromtroopers fell to the floor from their various wounds or worse.

Bringing his attention back to Arlesse now, Gillard saw one source of the enemy fire that had cut down so many of his men. The figure had emerged from the same hole in the floor that unearthed Arlesse, and now the armored Mandalorian fired with a precision that Gillard had not even seen his stormtrooper contingent exhibit.

Gillard wasn't sure if he was awed or frightened at the sight of the silver and black armored warrior, but as the lone figure moved towards Arlesse, the moff reached towards his side to pull his blaster.

His hand, however, never connected as Gillard felt an incredible searing pain rip into his right bicep. Before he could even comprehend what had happened, he found himself on his knees with his free hand clutched to the burn that had consumed his arm.

Gillard spared a moment to look down at the smoking hole in his dark green tunic. He saw that it was no larger than his thumb, and he had never imagined the kind of searing agony that accompanies a blaster wound. He suddenly wondered how any man survived being shot, and his curiosity to look at the wound now overrode his thoughts. He pulled back a piece of the burnt sleeve material, cringing at sight of the darkened skin and the reddened burn that surrounded the section of flesh that had been maimed by the blaster bolt.

Hearing the sudden near-silence around him, Gillard brought his eyes from his wound and realized that all of his men had been either severely wounded or killed in a matter of minutes. TK-2857 was slumped on the floor next to him trying to lift himself up onto his legs, but his left leg had been blasted to the point that the armor had been destroyed, and his thigh looked worse than Gillard's arm.

Concerned now for Arlesse and what had become of her, Gillard turned his attention there and saw three others had joined the Mandalorian. There was a man dressed in a merchant-like outfit that clearly defined him as someone not of Tochin origin, as his clothing was far finer than any farmer or townsfolk, but it was not nearly as extravagant as the outfit of a nobleman. The man's gray tunic and pants were made from high quality fabric, and his boots were created from dark brown leather. If not for the streaks of dirt and obvious signs that this man had probably crawled through the same underground tunnels that Arlesse had traveled, his outfit would have convinced Harkin that this man was part of the fading nobility on Tochin.

Moving his attention past the offworlder, Gillard focused his eyes on the woman that accompanied the men. Her dull orange clothing defined her as one of the working class of the Tochin town; however, as Gillard continued to study her, he slowly recognized the former palace guardian, Chora Wsau. At first, he didn't realize who she was without her uniform, but the way she held the blaster in a defensive posture gave him more than enough indication that she was a trained soldier.

Then, Gillard moved his eyes to the one man who had completely betrayed his trust and had planted a twisted message for him earlier in the novel shop. The former clone commander was kneeling beside Arlesse, his hand moving towards her neck as though looking for a pulse.

"What did you do, Tarj?" Gillard growled, as he moved his arm and felt the pain shoot from his bicep to his wrist, and he didn't bother wasting his energy on hiding his agony.

"She was never yours," Tarj replied as he now gently brushed one of those stray curls off Arlesse's face.

"_Hiibir kaysh at haar me'sen, ner vod_."

Tarj glanced up to Jas' _buy'ce_ and although he could not see his brother's face, there was no mistaking the tone in his words, as he had just asked Tarj to take _Les'ika_ to the ship. When Tarj hesitated for a moment, Jas spoke again to finish his thought and emphasize his directive, by telling him he would meet up with them soon. "_Ni ven shekemir o'r skotah ca'nar._"

Dusty understood what Jas had wanted to do, and he put a hand on Tarj's shoulder. His voice was quiet so that the Imperials could not hear him but loud enough that those within his immediate range could. "Let Jas have this, _ner vod_. He needs closure."

Tarj sighed softly, hoping his brother was not about to get himself killed. Then, he eased _Les'ika_ into his arms and carried her unmoving form towards the ship, just as Jas had requested. Silently, Dusty and Chora flanked either side of him and guarded him, prepared to kill any of the living stormtroopers that might be stupid enough to fire at him.

Jas started towards the self-proclaimed ruler of Tochin holding the blaster trained on the stormtrooper with the orange pauldron. The captain had suddenly torn his damaged helmet off his head, the HUD obviously destroyed in the firefight. His eyes were down on his thigh armor, staring at the way the plastoid plating had melted to his bodysuit.

"_Di'kuts_ only gave you one _shabla_ year of life, only six months of which were probably combat training," Jas grumbled somberly as his eyes took in the slaughter around him. "The Empire's army will be good for nothing."

Gillard kept his eyes on the Mandalorian and tried to reach for a blaster that was near him.

A blue blaster bolt appeared from the Mandalorian's blaster and melted into the weapon, forcing the moff to back his hand quickly away or else receive the same fate as the blaster. He looked up to see where the shot had come from when he saw the Mandalorian in the black and silver armor still aiming the blaster in his direction.

"The clone hired a bounty hunter?" Gillard asked, confusion entirely evident.

"No," Jas said and quickly took off his _buy'ce_ now that he was within striking distance of the moff.

Gillard clenched his fists, suddenly realizing who the man before him was. He recognized that this man shared the same facial features as Tarj and all the other clones who had passed through the walls of the palace. Gillard knew without having to even question the man that this Mandalorian was the absent adversary who had imbedded himself into Arlesse so strongly that he had to fight against her devotion just for one single kiss. And, now this clone had the arrogance to stand before him face-to-face. "Because of you, Arlesse is…"

Jas set the _buy'ce_ on his belt and raised his fist, allowing his punch to land solidly into the moff's jaw to silence whatever Harkin had planned to say. He saw the orange-marked stormtrooper start to raise a blaster towards him, and without pausing, Jas fired twice. The first shot disarmed the man. The second struck his wounded thigh, and now the captain let out a groan of anguish as the second blaster bolt further destroyed his already-damaged leg.

Staring down the moff, Jas brought his eyes to his and made his voice quiet but threatening. "She made a choice, one her father approved and one which you had no right to change."

Gillard studied the clone's dark irises, realizing suddenly that the raw devotion that Arlesse had so clearly exhibited for this man was exactly the same that was in his eyes. The world Gillard had wished to visit in Arlesse's eyes had been closed off from him because this cloned man's loyalty to Arlesse was the only key that would ever unlock her barriers. It was an unparalleled connection that Gillard had never seen before. Their commitment was founded on innocent trust and blind compassion. This clone was Arlesse's champion, a man who honored her and yet was never anything other than her equal.

Gillard felt himself astounded at the sight of this simple-looking man. Deep in his dark irises rested a child, a child not so unlike Arlesse. Similar to the princess, this clone had seen very little of what life could offer. He had spent his early years sheltered from a true existence, and his later ones forced to fight a war that wasn't his. Gillard understood now how Arlesse connected to this cloned man. While Arlesse had been similarly sheltered from the galaxy, she was his opposite in that she had been hidden from conflict. She was something pure and innocent, an unsullied companion who was untainted by political manipulation. She was someone who didn't see clones or an army. She saw human men, and Gillard could only imagine how that would spark emotions in a child princess and a boy clone, neither of which had been exposed to the real galaxy.

"Now, she belongs to no one," Gillard said sadly.

"You have no one to blame but yourself," Jas seethed softly. "She wanted the life you refused to give her."

"As though you would have done better?" Gillard argued. "You weren't meant to live long enough…"

Jas cut off Harkin before he continued. He had spent more than enough time arguing with himself about his short lifespan, but Arlesse had given him hope that she would stay beside him until his end.

"Again, that was not your concern," Jas grumbled. "It was _her_ choice."

Gillard took a breath before making his next argument. "Then, please, let me have the honor of providing a proper service to her memory…"

Jas aimed the blaster squarely into the moff's chest, making one final threat. "No. She's with her family now and that's where she will stay. You will not interfere again."

Pushing for answers, Gillard asked one final question. "Where are you taking her?"

"Home." With that, Jas used his free hand to put his _buy'ce_ back on his head. Then, he lowered his arm from Harkin, ignoring any further sputtering the moff was attempting to make. Turning his attention instead to the stormtrooper, Jas studied the man who looked so much like him, noting the small subtle differences that proved he was from one of the new cloning facilities. Instantly, Jas could see that this trooper had none of the Mandalorian influence and was merely a soldier, a man created without any kind of bond to his brothers. All he knew was to fight, not to compassionately protect his brethren and not to feel any kind of human feelings.

"They called you the Reject Squad because emotions flawed your batch," TK-2857 told Jas, as he sucked in a painful breath.

From under his _buy'ce_, Jas felt the pity on his face while looking at the injured stormtrooper. "No, _aruetiise_, emotions made us fierce and independent. And, that's what made us dangerous."

Then, Jas turned towards the _Galaar Woor_. It was finally time to go home.


	31. Chapter 30

_Author's Notes_: _Special thanks to deltalphavictor58, Ceres McClure, and Queen for their critiques of Chapter 29._ You all brought forth some gaps I didn't realize I had, and I hope that Chapter 30 fills in the points you all noted. I came to the conclusion that I will not be including an epilogue in the story simply because the epilogue I had in mind was nothing but a summary of the tale, and I didn't want to write a redundant chapter.

Before you delve into the final chapter of Knight of Honor, I wanted to take the time to write a proper thank you to everyone who has read my humble tale. For those of you who have left reviews, I will always be grateful for your criticism and your support. It's hard to believe that I had worked on Knight of Honor for approximately three years, and it's finally come to a close. I've met some wonderful friends through this story, and I honestly have no idea what my Muse will bring me next to write. With my most heartfelt gratitude, I want to thank each and every one of you so much!

As always, I continue to hope that I am doing justice to the spirit of Star Wars as well as the respective authors and characters from which I borrow. Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

_Disclaimer_: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. I own none of Karen Traviss' characters, and I hope she is not too upset that I have borrowed them to help tell the tale. Crimson Squad, the Tochin people, Gan Pohin, Moff Harkin, and anyone else I create are mine. Everything else belongs to George Lucas. All opening chapter quotes are my own design, unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 30**

_I've failed you, Sir. The last two men of my squad have died in surgery, and I have been diagnosed as being disabled and unfit for service. Having a destroyed thigh means I'm useless now, and spending the last of my years behind a desk is no way for a soldier to live. I hope my replacement serves you far better than I have_.  
Excerpt from TK-2857's suicide note

**91 Days after Order 66  
Tochin Moon III**

Gillard slowly turned around in the center of the bright room. The walls were layered in soft, pastel textures of yellow and peach. The window was wrapped in a fabric that resembled something like creamy lace with small flower designs embroidered in the material. A similar fabric was draped over the four wooden posters of the bed, connecting to a canopy top above the mattress. False flowers and vines were wrapped around the corners of the bedposts, making the bed seem more organic than it was.

Gillard finally pulled his eyes away from the bed, noting that it looked like something out of a fantasy story, yet it was every bit the kind of thing he should have expected to see in her room.

Moving his attention elsewhere, Gillard started to study every possession and every trinket. He had no idea what he had anticipated to see upon entering Arlesse's personal bedchamber, and at this point he was certain anything would have been a surprise. He didn't even know why he was here, but he could only conclude that it had something to do with finding closure.

Just like everything else in his existence that had slipped through his fingers, the life he thought he could fabricate had also been ripped from his grasp before he could truly hold it. He had lost the people who would have helped him achieve his idea of a content existence. First, it was the personal squad that had been assigned as his guardians, then TK-2857 had taken his own life yesterday, and still the hardest person for him to accept as gone was Arlesse.

Clenching his right hand into a fist, Gillard flinched at the way the skin of his arm pinched, and he was thrown back into the memories of how his idealistic dream had ended so abruptly. He still didn't understand what had happened in that hangar and how a couple of soldiers had so easily taken out his entire squad of sixteen men. And for as much as he was angered over that loss, his thoughts constantly saw Arlesse's lifeless body lying on the floor. Everything in that moment had been taken from him, and his only consolation was that he had finally admitted to Arlesse how he had found affection for a woman like her when she had done nothing kind for him in return.

Through his tunic sleeve, Gillard touched gently upon the bacta patch and reminded himself that healing was still taking place beneath as the bacta slowly treated the blaster wound. And, in a way, he came to understand that it was a metaphor for his own emotional healing because he had fought so hard against living the life his parents had shared, that he didn't even notice he was forcing those same arrangements onto those around him. It wasn't until this morning that he saw just how full-circle his life had grown and how everything he swore he would never do was everything he had done instead.

Letting go of his fist and relaxing his fingers now, Gillard brought them towards the small novel shelf in what had been the princess' bedroom. He ran his fingers over the bindings on the flimsies, certain that she, herself, had done this very motion numerous times before. His eyes read the titles, absorbing bits and pieces about who Arlesse Psach had been. While the names of the stories were different, each of those flimsi novels were the same story told in different ways with different characters. Every one of those tales offered an adventure and a romance that brought the reader into the escapism of reality.

Sliding one of the novels free from its placement, Gillard opened the plain-bound flimsi and thumbed his fingers through the delicate pages that contained nothing but words. He studied how the novel was pristine and well-kept, a sign that Arlesse had treasured her belongings, and he understood why nearly instantly. These stories were her freedom, the keys that opened the unknown world to her. Even though they were fantasies and fables, they gave her imagination and her mind the chance to roam free and leave behind the political world that she had been brought within.

Placing the novel back into its proper place on the shelf, Gillard found his eyes diverted to a colorful child's flimsi novel. It was set on a bedside table, and it was obvious that the collection of stories had seen better days. Compared to the pristine care of the other novels, Gillard found it odd how this one had been put through a war, yet it remained proudly on display.

Slowly opening the cover that had seen far too many repairs, the binding cracked with the movement as though vocalizing its pain for being called upon to be read once again. Gillard flipped through each page slowly, taking notice to the detailed drawings of the characters for each story. Certain pages had the corners folded down, and after a few moments, Gillard saw a pattern emerge. Those stories contained the fables that offered an adventure in bravery and chivalry as well as a subtle romance where the beautiful maiden had found her love.

Closing the novel, Gillard focused now on the small holo portraits that were scattered over Arlesse's dressers. There was one with the princess as a child looking no older than five years old as her father proudly held her on his lap. They were both dressed in the formal attire that royals were known for wearing during special occasions, and Arlesse's yellow dress was adorned with the kind of lace girls that age tend to wear. Looking deeper into the portrait, Gillard realized that the occasion was a day where they had celebrated her birth, as lavish frosting from a specially decorated cake had been caught in the corner of the scene.

Bringing his eyes to the child version of Arlesse, Gillard saw that she hadn't changed much throughout the years. In the portrait, her dark hair was neatly pulled back from her face in a yellow ribbon that matched her dress, and the curls of her hair had apparently been tight her entire life. Her blue eyes seemed large on her young face, and her cheeks were noticeably rounder.

The other holos on the shelf were similar in nature. Some of them contained Arlesse and her cousin, Janelle, in various stages of their lives. While looking through the portraits, Gillard could very easily see how Arlesse had begun to gradually slide into the background throughout the poses that she and her cousin shared. In the holos where they were both young children, they sat side by side and truly were equals. However, as Janelle's exquisite and unique beauty began to blossom, Arlesse slid further behind her, lowering her eyes from the portrait-taker's lens as though she was finding herself unworthy of being so close to her cousin's beauty.

Gillard understood even more now who Arlesse Psach was and why she had refused to turn away from her clone, the one man who had probably never been exposed to Janelle Napith and probably never had the opportunity to compare Arlesse to her cousin.

"She was a distraction to you. You know that, Gillard."

The moff spun quickly at the sound of his most trusted advisor's voice, the man who had taken on a father's role for him after he had developed his own network of political contacts on Coruscant. Leaning on a wooden cane, the advisor stood in the doorway looking much younger than his sixty-two years appeared. His thick, gray hair matched the beard and moustache on his unwrinkled face and while he was a shorter man, he held himself with great dignity. The advisor's brown eyes were filled with a strange pity while they glanced between Gillard and the multitude of trinkets that were scattered throughout the bedchamber.

"How did you know I was here, Omul?"

The older man waved a hand as though it was nothing and took a step into what was once Princess Arlesse's bedroom. "It would be obvious that a man who had just lost everything would take a step backwards into the past one last time."

Gillard turned his attention to a more recent portrait of Arlesse and her father. While there was still a noticeable sadness in her eyes, there was something warm between father and daughter, and Gillard remembered what she had told him about Vollan Psach being a parent, the way a parent is supposed to be.

"You fell in love with an idea, Son," Omul told him, his cane thumping on the floor as he moved a couple steps closer and brought his eyes to some of the portraits that had grasped the moff's attention.

Gillard turned to him, clearly confused.

"The union between a moff and a princess sounded enchanting. Most people flock to the idea of a fairy tale wedding. You would have offered the galaxy the union of a high-ranked Imperial moff to a young and shy princess. People would have wanted to see the royal splendor and all the insanity that goes with it. Royal weddings are a reason for the common citizens to re-evaluate their own small lives and dream of that elusive happy ending everyone wants but no one ever finds. We both know that marrying her would have brought in a different kind of respect for you."

"Fantasizing for the public wasn't my intention, Omul. I feared how some of those Imperials would have shredded her innocence. Arlesse wasn't raised politically…"

"Which is why some of us advised you to have her removed from her position…"

"So she could die alone in a galaxy where she had no knowledge of how to survive?" Gillard interrupted. He briefly tried to imagine Arlesse living in a small dwelling amongst the same common people who knew so little about her. He wondered if they would have helped her or if they would have turned their backs on her because of who she was. He tried to imagine what would have happened to her if she couldn't or maybe wouldn't have helped them if they wanted her to rebel with them. He tried to envision her becoming part of the working class, trying to make ends meet when her knowledge had been so limited. Then, he forced himself to push aside his anger and grief for what he had lost. Arlesse was now spared from ever having to suffer in a commoner's life and would never have to fear being an enemy from both her own people and an Empire that had thrown her away.

Omul put a gentle hand on the moff's shoulder, bringing him back from the thoughts that he could see were brewing beneath his young friend's eyes. "She died anyway, Gillard. Her death would have come regardless. Arlesse Psach was comforted and sheltered. She never would have made an appropriate companion, especially not to an Imperial moff who was expected to enforce Emperor Palpatine's severe policies."

Gillard pulled away from his advisor again and touched his hand to one of the false flowers that adorned the canopy around the bed.

"Gillard, I know you don't believe me, but the princess would have been your political downfall. She disrupted your ability to see clearly and be a proper leader. Without her around to be a distraction, you can now take charge of this world the way you have been expected to do."

The moff glanced again at one of the portraits, not seeing a political threat but a young and uncertain woman who just wanted to live a life without complications.

He voiced his question softly, concern etched in his words. "Did anyone ever see her as anything other than a Tochinite and a threat to the Empire?"

Omul leaned on his cane, studying the young moff and spoke as though the answer were obvious. "Her father and her cousin tried to lead a rebellion…"

"And acted completely outside of Arlesse's knowledge," Gillard defended feeling his frustration starting anew. "They purposefully kept Arlesse unaware of their plans to ensure she would not be judged wrongly."

Omul sighed softly and then decided for a different tactic. He could see that he was approaching the subject from the wrong angle. Politically the princess was no threat, but emotionally, she would have unwound the moff's experience and training. "Arlesse never would have loved you, Gillard, and I know you know that."

Gillard turned abruptly to his advisor, but before he could speak Omul continued.

"Do you remember the day that you showed me her comlink before interrogating her? When we discussed if those messages contained threats, I told you that those messages were far more dangerous than any political coup. I warned you that there was a purity in her correspondence, and you were advised then to let her go."

"And, I was going to," Gillard admitted, "Until I saw the way Arlesse defended that clone in my interrogation. She was willing to risk her freedom and her safety for him, and I don't know why, but I wanted someone to feel like that for me. I had never met anyone like her before. Her honesty was so pure, so real."

"And, you thought that she could absolve you of the lies that created who you are," Omul concluded softly.

"I would have loved her…"

"No, Son," Omul said, shaking his head, "You loved the fantasy of being loved by her. If you loved her, you wouldn't have competed with a clone for her."

Gillard just stared silently, trying to understand what exactly his advisor was attempting to say.

"It wouldn't have mattered if she loved a clone or a man of her own world," Omul continued, "She was committed with her heart in a bond that might not have been legal but was very real. You always were a threat to that, no matter how benevolent your intentions appeared. Look around here, and you will see that she believed with an innocence that doesn't exist in the rest of the galaxy."

Omul set his hand again on the moff's shoulder, offering silent condolences for the opportunities that were not meant to be his. After a moment, he spoke gently, reminding Gillard that he still had work to do. "Come now. It's time for you to honor your dead soldiers and close the matter of Arlesse's untimely demise. Then, your new captain awaits his orders for himself and his squad. And, tonight we have to address the Senate. The princess is gone, and you have to sign off the execution order for the three guardians sitting in the prison. You must be the moff that Palpatine expects you to be or you won't be here much longer."

Gillard took a heavy breath and one long, last look throughout the room. He knew he could never undo what had been done, but if he wanted Palpatine to remain distant he would have to convince the Senate that all rebellions on Tochin had been extinguished. He had to make it perfectly clear that although this latest attempt had resulted in casualties, there was no longer a desire from the people to rise up again. His life of lies had come back to claim him once more, and fabricating the story about Arlesse inadvertently being caught in a hail of blaster fire from the former palace guardians was another lie that was concocted to keep the Tochinite people subdued. He only hoped that they would believe the falsehoods about how she had been horribly disfigured when she had been killed and that it had been best to have her cremated upon being returned to the palace.

Following Omul into the hallway, Gillard turned and sealed the door behind him. He set the lock on the room so that no one would ever enter it again and everything inside it would remain preserved. He wanted something pristine left of the only woman who had never lied to him, and he would forbid anyone from ever tainting her memory.

**91 Days after Order 66  
Mandalore**

The small datapad was full of white pinpricks that covered a black screen, and as it moved, it copied the image of the sky behind it. When it stopped moving, a series of letters in the Basic language scattered over the screen, labeling the larger planets and some of the constellations.

A small finger touched upon one of those constellations on the datapad and a small paragraph filled a corner of the screen. It described the legend and the origin of the constellation as well as the stars that made up the night-sky portrait.

The finger closed out the information and then touched upon a planet that was distant within the constellation. Facts about the planet filled the screen, and the process remained the same as other planets and constellations were viewed.

"Did you ever travel here?" her voice now asked, as her finger moved over one of the planets, suddenly curious about where her husband may have traveled during the war.

There was a quiet laugh, mixed with an accent that was unique but familiar. "No one goes to Nal Hutta, not unless you want to become a Hutt's slave."

"Oh," she replied, feeling somewhat foolish.

"_Les'ika_, you've been insatiable with this quest for knowledge, and you're constantly reading every fact on that device that you can find."

Pulling the datapad down from the sky to rest on her stomach, the young woman stayed on her back in the sprouting, fresh grass and looked sideways to the pair of dark eyes that were staring into hers. Even with the faint light of the moons in the night sky, she could see the playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm trying to learn everything, Jas. I feel like I've been in a tiny box my whole life."

"You will learn all that you need and want," he replied, studying her profile in the dim light, "But you need patience and time."

Arlesse closed her eyes for a moment and came to understand that there was a lot that they still had to figure out. While traveling through hyperspace during their escape from Tochin, they took on the problem of finding a name to use to address her, especially in public. It was agreed upon that _Les'ika_ was fine for using amongst themselves, but she would need a new identity, something that would further hide her royal bloodlines. The two of them had established that they would take Gan's surname of Pohin and then it was up to Arlesse to decide on her first name. She chose Lessa in honor of the nickname that her parents had used for her and to make it easy for everyone to still call her _Les'ika_.

Setting the datapad beside her on the uneven and newly-growing grass, Lessa Pohin pulled gently at the fabric of the high collar around her neck. While Jas had not been able yet to acquire _beskar'gam_ or a _buy'ce_ for her, he had been able to find appropriate clothing that was the start to her set of armor.

After they had settled on Mandalore, she had safely stored her lavender gown in their humble residence, preserving it in a suitcase. Jas had been curious about why she kept the garment from her past life, and she had told him that it was because the clothing was technically her wedding gown and traditionally such attire becomes saved as an heirloom.

Now Lessa was still trying to grow accustomed to having her neck hidden behind the protective fabric. She had always worn open collars and had always allowed her star pendant to be seen. However, she knew that she would have to make alterations to her comforts in order to remain hidden from any potential threats.

While the material of her new clothing was soft to the touch, it was just…unusual and hugged her body differently than any gown she had ever worn. The tunic and pants kept her body temperature regulated so she had no need for multiple layers, and the boots weren't much different than what she had worn during her days in the palace. What she actually liked about the outfit was the piece of clothing that Jas had told her was a _kama_, and it felt most like the skirts she had worn her entire life. Unlike Jas' _kama_ that was short and functional, though, her _kama_ wrapped around her hips and draped down past her knees in a material that was light but strong, more flowing like the outer-layers she used to wear on top of her skirts.

The overall color scheme of what would be her underclothing to her armor was an off-white, more like the color of a faded beige, and Jas had promised her that after they would find her _beskar_, she could have the armor coated in whatever color or pattern she wanted.

Finally opening her eyes, Lessa pushed aside the extraneous thoughts about her clothing while looking into Jas' irises, and she found herself suddenly reminded of the moment when she had awakened on the _Galaar Woor_.

Her consciousness had started with a flutter in her eyelids. It was that heavy feeling of not wanting to awaken, but not being able to stay asleep. She barely had the opportunity to slit open her eyes when she felt a touch that was everything familiar and comforting. She recognized the contact of Jas' kiss and instead of immediately opening her eyes, she leaned into his lips. She felt him slide his hands behind her back and help raise her into a sitting position from the cushion she had been laying upon.

After a few long minutes they pulled apart, and she simply stared at him, lost in a confusing mix of emotions and questions. Jas had done nothing more than take her hands in his, and in that moment a surge of new sensations came over her as she realized that for the first time since she had been bitten by a Pallid Viper in the Tochin forest, she felt Jas' rough skin rather than the gloves of his armored outfits.

Jas didn't hesitate, and while one of his hands kept a grasp on hers, his other one moved to her face. He couldn't help touching her smooth cheek, finding himself lost in the warmth and softness of her skin. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they twisted into the curls near her cheek, trying to experience every sensation that he had been denied because of his commando and Mandalorian suits of armor.

"Is this real?" she had asked quietly in a whisper as though afraid speaking any louder would end the daydream she had imagined for so long.

"I'm hoping it is," Jas replied just as softly, as though fearing his own visions would come to an abrupt end. Then, he felt the overwhelming need to apologize and knew he could not hide how it reflected in his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed _Les'ika's_ forehead, bringing both his hands into her curls, allowing her tight locks to tangle around his fingers. Gently, he tilted her face slightly towards his, letting her see the agony he felt at his confession.

"_Les'ika_, I didn't want to hurt you, but Dusty insisted that my position in the hangar was the only one that could make the shot convincing. I had to make you look dead to Harkin, and it destroyed me. I knew the blaster was set on stun, but I feared the entire time that I might fall into old habits and set it for kill the moment my battle instincts kicked in."

Arlesse absorbed Jas' words, aware of the pain and truth in his eyes, and knew that he had not harmed her with any malicious intent. Still, she had to know more about the results of the actions that her guardians had done to free her. "What happened to everyone?"

"Dusty, Tarj, and Chora are fine, but we killed most of the stormtroopers," he told her, holding her eyes with his own. "There were only a couple left alive, but we made certain their wounds were mortal and that their survival wouldn't be for long."

His voice changed then, becoming determined and protective. "I personally confronted Harkin. I convinced him you were dead, and I put a career-ending blaster bolt into his stormtrooper captain. I had to make sure you were safe and that they would not try to hunt you down."

"Oh, Jas…" she breathed, not certain what there was to say. She had never imagined in her entire life that any man would risk his existence for her and defy a Galactic Empire in the process. She never once thought that holding his hand on Hazar's ship nearly a year ago would have led to his acts of pure devotion to her. Finding her voice again, she told him the only thing she could – the truth, "You really are my knight."

Jas leaned forward then, and they were both pulled by emotions that neither of them had any reason to deny as they fell against the cushioned mattress.

Blinking against the memories of that private moment, Lessa Pohin returned her thoughts to the outstretched meadow of their backyard on Mandalore and the dark evening she was sharing with a research datapad and her husband. She saw the concern that was in her knight's eyes about their conversation regarding her need to learn so much and noticed how quickly his smile had faded in those passing seconds. She had to reveal her own confession now, just as he had done for her about Dusty's escape plan.

"I did some research this morning on Mandalorian culture," she told him nervously, watching how his dark eyes could grow even more concerned and intense. "I'm worried that I'll fail you in the expectations of a Mandalorian wife."

"_Les'ika_…" Jas whispered softly, but Lessa hurried to cut him off.

"I'm supposed to be able to defend the homestead by using weapons and fight like a warrior, but…"

Jas repositioned his body next to her so that he leaned on his arm and looked down into her eyes from above. He waited for her to finish her thoughts, but when she didn't, he tried to respond as best he could. "No one expects you to be able to learn how to fire a blaster in one day or to know self-defense with just a couple lessons."

Lessa sighed heavily, seeing that her pause had caused her conversation to go in the wrong direction, and she needed it back where it was supposed to be. "Jas, it's more than learning the mechanics of all that. Being a Mandalorian comes from a breeding I don't have. There is no mercenary blood in my lineage, and my family doesn't come from warriors."

"That's not true," Jas argued gently. He refused to let her believe she was useless. He had seen her grow stronger during their time together in the Tochin forest, and he knew she was capable of more than she believed. "Your mother…"

"Has, or had, a gift that I don't," Lessa countered, knowing that Jas was going to remind her about how Darian Psach was a Jedi.

Jas continued staring into her eyes, dropping that argument and instead waiting for her real fear to emerge. While he could see she had her concerns about everything she had mentioned to him, there was something much deeper that was the root to all this. After a few moments when she didn't offer anything, he decided to press for what he sought.

"_Les'ika_, what's really wrong?"

There was a long pause and finally she spoke quietly. "I don't want to kill anyone, Jas. I've seen too many people die, and I can't bring myself to end someone's existence. From what I read, though, most Mandalorians are mercenaries and people who take dangerous jobs for credits. How can I possibly be trained to have such little regard for another life? I don't want to become like Hazar."

Jas found himself unable to answer her immediately. _Les'ika_ still continued to carry the life of an anonymous clone trooper in her heart, and that _vode's_ sacrifice had not lessened in the year since that event. Then, she had been witness to the deaths of her family, as well as the people she had taken for granted in her past. Unlike his training that was instilled in him since childhood to fight a war, _Les'ika_ had only been witness to unjust acts of execution. Remembering the way she had grown stronger in his presence during their time in the Tochin forest, Jas knew _Les'ika_ was no weakling. What he saw instead was a woman of great compassion who had been denied her full potential, and he would see to it that she would survive after his shortened life came to its end.

Finally finding an answer that he believed would ease her concerns, Jas told her, "Being a Mandalorian doesn't mean you always have to kill, and defending isn't always about executing someone. I could teach you to use a stun blaster, and self-defense isn't about killing but about keeping someone else from hurting you. We can stay here where we are, quiet and isolated from the main civilization. We'll start a farm, growing whatever the land will give us or we'll find some trade that will give us a way to fend for ourselves. I swear that you won't turn into Hazar, but you'll be strong enough to keep safe."

Lessa reached her fingers to his chin and touched it gently. "Jas, I feel like I'm going to hold you back from everything you've been trained to do."

"_Les'ika_, I don't want to be a soldier anymore, and you saved me from that existence. I've lived for others' commands for far too long, and I heard that Palpatine uses the remaining clones to be little more than law enforcers and executioners. He thinks nothing of sending my brothers into situations where they will not return, almost like he's letting them die off purposefully. So, if you think you're holding me back, then I'd be a fool to leave."

Lessa felt a small smile return to her face now. "How do you always manage to make sense of me when I'm so lost?"

"The same way you never gave up on me during the war," Jas replied as he ran his fingers through her hair, joyful about not being locked in gloves or armor if he didn't want to be anymore. Even with the tightness of her curls, he was continually surprised at how soft her hair was. "You waited eight months for me, and that is the kind of devotion that makes a Mandalorian. Weapons and self-defense can be learned, but loyalty is ingrained."

"Did Gan teach you that?" she asked softly.

"No," he answered, tracing her jaw with his finger and leaning towards her. "You did."

"I'm leaving in the morning."

Both Jas and Lessa suddenly pulled back from their initial intentions, sitting up abruptly. They brought their eyes to the source of the familiar voice that had interrupted them, and neither was surprised that he had been able to move silently to where they were.

Dusty stood with his arms folded over his chest and wore a practiced smirk on his face that was actually enhanced by the starlight night. He did not have armor plating over his tunic or pants, but he was dressed in the style of soft clothing that most Mandalorians preferred. All he had to do was attach the plating, and put on a _buy'ce_, and he'd be ready for whatever Mandalore or the galaxy had to throw at him.

Unable to resist, Dusty kept his gaze on the two of them and teased, "I'd tell you to get married, but you've already done that. Looks like wedded bliss is working out well, though."

Lessa reached for the datapad and gathered it in her hands, trying to make herself appear busy as she felt her cheeks heating up in a flush of embarrassment. Jas remained seated on the ground next to her, refusing to allow himself to be shamed by what Dusty knew far too much about.

"What do you mean that you're leaving?" Jas asked, scratching the back of his head clearly confused. "I thought we had made adequate arrangements in the dwelling with Tarj and Chora and you."

Dusty's smile faded as he explained his reason for abruptly barging into his _vode's_ moment of longing and affection. "Ordo said his brothers got a trace for me on Cerina…"

Jas sat up straighter as though to say something, but Dusty cut him off by continuing his thoughts. "Yeah, I know sooner than I expected, too. I didn't think Kal would have given us any cooperation after the way we stood up to him a couple weeks ago. Apparently, though, he still feels some obligation to us, being that we're clones and all."

"How are you going to arrange leaving Mandalore?" Jas asked.

Dusty smirked again, seeming surprised by his own words. "The _Gaalor_ _Woor_ is still in our name. Plus, I took a check on the balance of that credit chip Ordo gave us when we were on Tochin, and it actually increased its value, like it's earning interest. So, I thought I would just withdraw a portion of that amount to cover my expenses and let you keep the rest."

"It looks like Kal isn't holding any grudges against us, then," Jas said, more to himself than to Dusty.

Dusty decided to explain further his findings from the few conversations he had with the Null who had helped them just a few weeks ago. "I questioned some things with Ordo recently, and he told me that Kal's been taking care of whatever clones make it here so we're officially under his protection."

"So coming across this homestead was another of Kal's contributions," Jas concluded.

"It's like he said, _ner vod_. He personally couldn't get involved with our mission to Tochin, but he had no intentions to stop us. Now that we're out of immediate danger, he just wants us all happy, I guess. And, supposedly, his Nulls are working on finding a cure for our advanced aging."

At that, Lessa and Jas exchanged glances, hoping that such a cure would be possible.

Dusty didn't want to dwell on the rumors until there was more proof so he switched back to his original thoughts. "Anyway, I had told Ordo that I wasn't in a rush to find Cerina, but it was something I wanted to eventually pursue. It looks like he found information a lot sooner than any of us expected."

Jas looked to Dusty with hope. "So, you're going to find her?"

"I knew you would understand this, Jas, which is why I wanted to be sure I told you right away. I can't help the feeling that if I don't take this chance, I'm never going to have it again. The Nulls said that Cerina had gone underground a few weeks after our mission and remained hidden for over a year. That doesn't sound good, and I just want to make sure she's okay."

Lessa felt sudden concern for Dusty, worried that he might be getting himself into some kind of situation that would not end well. "What do you plan to do?"

Dusty shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know yet, _Les'ika_. It depends on what I find when I get to Denon and if I can keep below the Imperial radar."

"I'll go with you," Jas suddenly offered.

Dusty gave a small smile as his eyes passed between Jas and _Les'ika_. "No, you aren't, _ner vod_, and I'd beat your senseless _shebs_ if you tried. You took your chance and got a life now. I'm not going to let you screw that up. Besides, Tarj and Chora already offered to tag along so I'm still deciding if I want the company or not. I just thought I should let you both know now in case I miss the two of you in the morning, especially since you're still quite smitten with each other."

With that, Dusty offered one last smirk before he turned and headed back to the dwelling they all called home.

"It won't be the same without him around," Lessa said quietly.

"I know," Jas agreed, "But he won't want us making a fuss about this. Cerina is the reason he survived as long as he did, and he deserves the chance to find her. Besides, he'll take Tarj and Chora with him when he leaves. Dusty doesn't do well without someone to annoy when he's bored. And, he's right about one thing," Jas said turning towards _Les'ika_. He took the datapad from her hands and placed it back onto the ground, letting his words fade into the night air as he leaned towards her. "He'd really kick my _shebs_..."


End file.
